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THE  SHEIK 


THE  SHEIK 

A  NOVEL 


BY 

E.  M.  HULL 


BOSTON 

SMALL,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1921, 
By  SMALL,  MAYNABD  &  COMPANY 
(incorporated) 


First  to  Forty-first  Printing,  February  to  November,  1921 
Forty-second  Printing,  December,  1921 
Forty-third  Printing,  December,  1921 
Forty-fourth  Printing,  December,  1921 
Forty  fifth  Printing,  December,  1921 
Forty-sixth  Printing,  December,  1921 
Forty-seventh  Printing,  December,  1921 
Forty-eighth  Printing,  December,  1921 
Forty-ninth  Printing  December,  1921 

Fiftieth  Printing,  December,  1921 
Fifty-first  Printing,  December,  1921 
Fifty-second  Printing,  December,  1921 
Fifty-third  Printing,  December,  1921 
Fifty-fourth  Printing,  December,  1921 
Fifty-fifth  Printing,  December,  1921 
Fifty-simth  Printing,  December,  1921 
Fifty-seventh  Printing,  January,  1922 
Fifty-eighth  Printing,  January,  1922 
Fifty-ninth  Printing,  January,  1922 
Sixtieth  Printing,  January,  1922 
Sixty- first  Printing,  January,  1922 
Sixty-second  Printing,  January,  1922 
Sixty-third  Printing,  January,  1922 
Sixty-fourth  Printing,  January,  1922 
Sixty-fifth  Printing,  January,  1922 
Sixty-sixth  Printing,  February,  1922 
Sixty-seventh  Printing,  February,  1922 


THE  SHEIK 


1126783 


THE  SHEIK 


CHAPTER  I 

"  Are  you  coming  in  to  watch  the  dancing,  Lady  Con- 
way ?  " 

4<  I  most  decidedly  am  not.  I  thoroughly  disapprove 
of  the  expedition  of  which  this  dance  is  the  inauguration. 
I  consider  that  even  by  contemplating  such  a  tour  alone 
into  the  desert  with  no  chaperon  or  attendant  of  her  own 
sex,  with  only  native  camel  drivers  and  servants,  Diana 
Mayo  is  behaving  with  a  recklessness  and  impropriety 
that  is  calculated  to  cast  a  slur  not  only  on  her  own 
reputation,  but  also  on  the  prestige  of  her  country.  I 
blush  to  think  of  it.  We  English  cannot  be  too  careful 
of  our  behavior  abroad.  No  opportunity  is  slight  enough 
for  our  continental  neighbours  to  cast  stones,  and  this 
opportunity  is  very  far  from  being  slight.  It  is  the  mad- 
dest piece  of  unprincipled  folly  I  have  ever  heard  of." 

"  Oh,  come,  Lady  Conway !  It's  not  quite  so  bad  as 
all  that.  It  is  certainly  unconventional  and  —  er  —  prob- 
ably not  quite  wise,  but  remember  Miss  Mayo's  unusual 
upbringing  — " 

"  I  am  not  forgetting  her  unusual  upbringing,"  inter- 
rupted Lady  Conway.  *  It  has  been  deplorable.  But 
nothing  can  excuse  this -scandalous  escapade.  I  knew  her 
mother  years  ago,  and  I  took  it  upon  myself  to  expostulate 
i 


2 


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both  with  Diana  and  her  brother,  but  Sir  Aubrey  is  hedged 
around  with  an  egotistical  complacency  tnat  would  defy 
a  pickaxe  to  penetrate.  According  to  him  a  Mayo  is 
beyond  criticism,  and  his  sister's  reputation  her  own  to 
deal  with.  The  girl  herself  seemed,  frankly,  not  to  un- 
derstand the  seriousness  of  her  position,  and  was  very 
flippant  and  not  a  little  rude.  I  wash  my  hands  of  the 
whole  affair,  and  will  certainly  not  countenance  to-night's 
entertainment  by  appearing  at  it.  I  have  already  warned 
the  manager  that  if  the  noise  is  kept  up  beyond  a  reason- 
able hour  I  shall  leave  the  hotel  to-morrow."  And,  draw- 
ing her  wrap  around  her  with  a  little  shudder,  Lady  Con- 
way stalked  majestically  across  the  wide  verandah  of  the 
Biskra  Hotel. 

The  two  men  left  standing  by  the  open  French  window 
that  led  into  the  hotel  ballroom  looked  at  each  other  and 
smiled. 

"  Some  peroration,"  said  one  with  a  marked  American 
accent.    "  That's  the  way  scandal's  made,  I  guess." 

"  Scandal  be  hanged !  There's  never  been  a  breath  of 
scandal  attached  to  Diana  Mayo's  name.  I've  known  the 
child  since  she  was  a  baby.  Rum  little  cuss  she  was,  too. 
Confound  that  old  woman !  She  would  wreck  the  reputa- 
tion of  the  Archangel  Gabriel  if  he  came  down  to  earth, 
let  alone  that  of  a  mere  human  girl." 

"  Not  a  very  human  girl,"  laughed  the  American. 
"  She  was  sure  meant  for  a  boy  and  changed  at  the  last 
moment.  She  looks  like  a  boy  in  petticoats,  a  damned 
pretty  boy  —  and  a  damned  haughty  one,"  he  added, 
chuckling.  "  I  overheard  her  this  morning,  in  the  garden, 
making  mincemeat  of  a  French  officer." 

The  Englishman  laughed. 


THE  SHEIK 


3 


*  Been  making  love  to  her,  I  expect.  A  thing  she  does 
not  understand  and  won't  tolerate.  She's  the  coldest 
little  fish  in  the  world,  without  an  idea  in  her  head  beyond 
sport  and  travel.  Clever,  though,  and  plucky  as  they  are 
made.  I  don't  think  she  knows  the  meaning  of  the  word 
fear." 

"  There's  a  queer  streak  in  the  family,  isn't  there  ?  I 
heard  somebody  yapping  about  it  the  other  night.  Father 
was  mad  and  blew  his  brains  out,  so  I  was  told." 

The  Englishman  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  You  can  call  it  mad,  if  you  like,"  he  said  slowly. 
"  I  live  near  the  Mayos'  in  England,  and  happen  to  know 
the  story.  Sir  John  Mayo  was  passionately  devoted  to 
his  wife;  after  twenty  years  of  married  life  they  were 
still  lovers.  Then  this  girl  was  born,  and  the  mother 
died.  Two  hours  afterwards  her  husband  shot  himself, 
leaving  the  baby  in  the  sole  care  of  her  brother,  who  was 
just  nineteen,  and  as  lazy  and  as  selfish  then  as  he  is 
now.  The  problem  of  bringing  up  a  girl  child  was  too 
much  trouble  to  be  solved,  so  he  settled  the  difficulty  by 
treating  her  as  if  she  was  a  boy.  The  result  is  what  you 
see. 

They  moved  nearer  to  the  open  window,  looking  into 
the  brilliantly  lit  ballroom,  already  filled  with  gaily  chat- 
tering people.  On  a  slightly  raised  platform  at  one  end 
of  the  room  the  host  and  hostess  were  receiving  their 
guests.  The  brother  and  sister  were  singularly  unlike. 
Sir  Aubrey  Mayo  was  very  tall  and  thin,  the  pallor  of  his 
face  accentuated  by  the  blackness  of  his  smoothly  brushed 
hair  and  heavy  black  moustache.  His  attitude  was  a  mix- 
ture of  well-bred  courtesy  and  languid  boredom.  He 
seemed  too  tired  even  to  keep  the  single  eye-glass  that  he 


4 


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wore  in  position,  for  it  dropped  continually.  By  con- 
trast the  girl  at  his  side  appeared  vividly  alive.  She  was 
only  of  medium  height  and  very  slender,  standing  erect 
with  the  easy,  vigorous  carriage  of  an  athletic  boy,  her 
small  head  poised  proudly.  Her  scornful  mouth  and  firm 
chin  showed  plainly  an  obstinate  determination,  and  her 
deep  blue  eyes  were  unusually  clear  and  steady.  The 
long,  curling  black  lashes  that  shaded  her  eyes  and  the 
dark  eyebrows  were  a  foil  to  the  thick  crop  of  loose,  red- 
gold  curls  that  she  wore  short,  clubbed  about  her  ears. 

"  The  result  is  worth  seeing,"  said  the  American  admir- 
ingly, referring  to  his  companion's  last  remark. 

A  third  and  younger  man  joined  them. 

"  Hallo,  Arbuthnot.  You're  late.  The  divinity  is  ten 
deep  in  would-be  partners  already." 

A  dull  red  crept  into  the  young  man's  face,  and  he 
jerked  his  head  angrily. 

"  I  got  waylaid  by  Lady  Conway  —  poisonous  old 
woman !  She  had  a  great  deal  to  say  on  the  subject  of 
Miss  Mayo  and  her  trip.  She  ought  to  be  gagged.  I 
thought  she  was  going  on  talking  all  night,  so  I  fairly 
bolted  in  the  end.  All  the  same,  I  agree  with  her  on  one 
point.    Why  can't  that  lazy  ass  Mayo  go  with  his  sister?  " 

Nobody  seemed  to  be  able  to  give  an  answer.  The 
band  had  begun  playing,  and  the  floor  was  covered  with 
laughing,  talking  couples. 

Sir  Aubrey  Mayo  had  moved  away,  and  his  sister  was 
left  standing  with  several  men,  who  waited,  programme 
in  hand,  but  she  waved  them  away  with  a  little  smile  and 
a  resolute  shake  of  her  head. 

4<  Things  seem  to  be  getting  a  hustle  on,"  said  the 
American. 


THE  SHEIK 


5 


"  Are  you  going  to  try  your  luck  ?  "  asked  the  elder  of 
the  two  Englishmen. 

The  American  bit  the  end  off  a  cigar  with  a  little 
smile. 

"  I  sure  am  not.  The  haughty  young  lady  turned  me 
down  as  a  dancer  very  early  in  our  acquaintance.  I  don't 
blame  her,"  he  added,  with  a  rueful  laugh,  "but  her 
extreme  candour  still  rankles.  She  told  me  quite  plainly 
that  she  had  no  use  for  an  American  who  could  neither 
ride  nor  dance.  I  did  intimate  to  her,  very  gently,  that 
there  were  a  few  little  openings  in  the  States  for  men 
beside  cattle-punching  and  cabaret  dancing,  but  she  froze 
me  with  a  look,  and  I  faded  away.  No,  Sir  Egotistical 
Complacency  will  be  having  some  bridge  later  on,  which 
will  suit  me  much  better.  He's  not  a  bad  chap  under- 
neath if  you  can  swallow  his  peculiarities,  and  he's  a 
sportsman.  I  like  to  play  with  him.  He  doesn't  care  a 
durn  if  he  wins  or  loses." 

"  It  doesn't  matter  when  you  have  a  banking  account 
the  size  of  his,"  said  Arbuthnot  "  Personally,  I  find 
dancing  more  amusing  and  less  expensive.  I  shall  go  and 
take  my  chance  with  our  hostess." 

His  eyes  turned  rather  eagerly  towards  the  end  of  the 
room  where  the  girl  was  standing  alone,  straight  and  slim, 
the  light  from  an  electrolier  gilding  the  thick  bright  curls 
frami-ig  her  beautiful,  haughty  little  face.  She  was  star- 
ing down  at  the  dancers  with  an  absent  expression  in  her 
eyes,  as  if  her  thoughts  were  far  away  from  the  crowded 
ballroom. 

The  American  pushed  Arbuthnot  forward  with  a  little 
laugh. 

*  Run  along,  foolish  moth,  and  get  your  poor  little 


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THE  SHEIK 


wings  singed.  When  the  cruel  fair  has  done  trampling 
on  you  I'll  come  right  along  and  mop  up  the  remains. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  your  temerity  meets  with  the  success 
it  deserves,  we  can  celebrate  suitably  later  on."  And, 
linking  his  arm  in  his  friend's,  he  drew  him  away  to  the 
card-room. 

Arbuthnot  went  through  the  window  and  worked 
slowly  round  the  room,  hugging  the  wall,  evading  dancers, 
and  threading  his  way  through  groups  of  chattering  men 
and  women  of  all  nationalities.  He  came  at  last  to  the 
raised  dais  on  which  Diana  Mayo  was  still  standing,  and 
climbed  up  the  few  steps  to  her  side. 

"  This  is  luck,  Miss  Mayo,"  he  said,  with  an  assurance 
that  he  was  far  from  feeling.  "  Am  I  really  fortunate 
enough  to  find  you  without  a  partner?  " 

She  turned  to  him  slowly,  with  a  little  crease  growing 
between  her  arched  eyebrows,  as  if  his  coming  were  in- 
opportune and  she  resented  the  interruption  to  her 
thoughts,  and  then  she  smiled  quite  frankly. 

"  I  said  I  would  not  dance  until  everybody  was  started," 
she  said  rather  doubtfully,  looking  over  the  crowded  floor. 

"  They  are  all  dancing.  You've  done  your  duty  nobly. 
Don't  miss  this  ripping  tune,"  he  urged  persuasively. 

She  hesitated,  tapping  her  programme-pencil  against 
her  teeth. 

"  I  refused  a  lot  of  men,"  she  said,  with  a  grimace. 
Then  she  laughed  suddenly.  "  Come  along,  then.  I  am 
noted  for  my  bad  manners.  This  will  only  be  one  extra 
sin." 

Arbuthnot  danced  well,  but  with  the  girl  in  his  arms 
he  seemed  suddenly  tongue-tied.  They  swung  round 
the  room  several  times,  then  halted  simultaneously  beside 


THE  SHEIK 


7 


an  open  window  and  went  out  into  the  garden  of  the 
hotel,  sitting  down  on  a  wicker  seat  under  a  gaudy  Jap- 
anese hanging  lantern.  The  band  was  still  playing,  and 
for  the  moment  the  garden  was  empty,  lit  faintly  by  col- 
oured lanterns,  festooned  from  the  palm  trees,  and 
twinkling  lights  outlining  the  winding  paths. 

Arbuthnot  leaned  forward,  his  hands  clasped  between 
his  knees. 

"  I  think  you  are  the  most  pertect  dancer  I  have  ever 
met,"  he  said  a  little  breathlessly. 

Miss  Mayo  looked  at  him  seriously  without  a  trace  of 
sei  f -consciousness. 

"  It  is  very  easy  to  dance  if  you  have  a  musical  ear, 
and  if  you  have  been  in  the  habit  of  making  your  body 
do  what  you  want.  So  few  people  seem  to  be  trained  to 
make  their  limbs  obey  them„  Mine  have  had  to  do  as 
they  were  told  since  I  was  a  small  child/'  she  answered 
calmly. 

The  unexpectedness  of  the  reply  acted  as  a  silencer  on 
Arbuthnot  for  a  few  minutes,  and  the  girl  beside  him 
seemed  in  no  hurry  to  break  the  silence.  The  dance 
was  over  and  the  empty  garden  was  thronged  for  a  little 
time.  Then  the  dancers  drifted  back  into  the  hotel  as  the 
band  started  again. 

"  It's  rather  jolly  here  in  the  garden,"  Arbuthnot  said 
tentatively,  His  heart  was  pounding  with  unusual 
rapidity,  and  his  eyes,  that  he  kept  fixed  on  his  own 
clasped  hands,  had  a  hungry  look  growing  in  them. 

"  You  mean  that  you  want  to  sit  out  this  dance  with 
me?"  she  said  with  a  boyish  directness  that  somewhat 
nonplussed  him. 

"  Yes,"  he  stammered  rather  foolishly. 


g 


THE  SHEIK 


She  held  her  programme  up  to  the  light  of  the  lantern. 

"I  promised  this  one  to  Arthur  Conway.  We  quarrel 
every  time  we  meet.  I  cannot  think  why  he  asked  me; 
he  disapproves  of  me  even  more  than  his  mother  does  — 
such  an  interfering  old  lady.  He  will  be  overjoyed  to  be 
let  off.  And  I  don't  want  to  dance  to-night.  I  am  look- 
ing forward  so  tremendously  to  to-morrow.  I  shall  stay 
and  talk  to  you,  but  you  must  give  me  a  cigarette  to 
keep  me  in  a  good  temper." 

His  hand  shook  a  little  as  he  held  the  match  for  her. 
"Are  you  really  determined  to  go  through  with  this 
tour?*' 

She  stared  at  him  in  surprise.  "  Why  not  ?  My  ar- 
rangements have  been  made  some  time.  Why  should  I 
change  my  mind  at  the  last  moment  ?  " 

"  Why  does  your  brother  let  you  go  alone  ?  Why 
doesn't  he  go  with  you  ?  Oh,  I  haven't  any  right  to  ask, 
but  I  do  ask,"  he  broke  out  vehemently. 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  a  little  laugh.  "  We 
fell  out,  Aubrey  and  I.  He  wanted  to  go  to  America.  I 
wanted  a  trip  into  the  desert.  We  quarrelled  for  two 
whole  days  and  half  one  night,  and  then  we  compromised. 
I  should  have  my  desert  tour,  and  Aubrey  should  go  to 
New  York ;  and  to  mark  his  brotherly  appreciation  of  my 
gracious  promise  to  follow  him  to  the  States  without  fail 
at  the  end  of  a  month  he  has  consented  to  grace  my  car- 
avan for  the  first  stage,  and  dismiss  me  on  my  way  with 
his  blessing.  It  annoyed  him  so  enormously  that  he 
could  not  order  me  to  go  with  him,  this  being  the  first 
time  in  our  wanderings  that  our  inclinations  have  not 
jumped  in  the  same  direction.  I  came  of  age  a  few 
months  ago,  and,  in  future,  I  can  do  as  I  please.    Not  that 


THE  SHEIK 


9 


I  have  ever  done  anything  else,"  she  conceded,  with  an- 
other laugh,  "  because  Aubrey's  ways  have  been  my  ways 
until  now." 

"  But  for  the  sake  of  one  month !  What  difference 
could  it  make  to  him  ?  "  he  asked  in  astonishment. 

"  That's  Aubrey,"  replied  Miss  Mayo  drily. 

"  It  isn't  safe,"  persisted  Arbuthnot. 

She  flicked  the  ash  from  her  cigarette  carelessly.  "  I 
don't  agree  with  you.  I  don't  know  why  everybody  is 
making  such  a  fuss  about  it.  Plenty  of  other  women 
have  travelled  in  much  wilder  country  than  this  desert." 

He  looked  at  her  curiously.  She  seemed  to  be  totally 
unaware  that  it  was  her  youth  and  her  beauty  that  made 
all  the  danger  of  the  expedition.  He  fell  back  on  the 
easier  excuse. 

"  There  seems  to  be  unrest  amongst  some  of  the  tribes. 
There  have  been  a  lot  of  rumours  lately,"  he  said  seriously. 

She  made  a  little  movement  of  impatience.  "  Oh, 
that's  what  they  always  tell  you  when  they  want  to  put 
obstacles  in  your  way.  The  authorities  have  already 
dangled  that  bogey  in  front  of  me.  I  asked  for  facts  and 
they  only  gave  me  generalities.  I  asked  definitely  if  they 
had  any  power  to  stop  me.  They  said  they  had  not,  but 
strongly  advised  me  not  to  make  the  attempt.    I  said  I 

should  go,  unless  the  French  Government  arrested  me  

Why  not?  I  am  not  afraid.  I  don't  admit  that  there  is 
anything  to  be  afraid  of.  I  don't  believe  a  word  about 
the  tribes  being  restless.  Arabs  are  always  moving  about, 
aren't  they?  I  have  an  excellent  caravan  leader,  whom 
even  the  authorities  vouch  for,  and  I  shall  be  armed.  I 
am  perfectly  able  to  take  care  of  myself.  I  can  shoot 
straight  and  I  am  used  to  camping.    Besides,  I  have 


10 


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given  my  word  to  Aubrey  to  be  in  Oran  in  a  month,  and 
I  can't  get  very  far  away  in  that  time." 

There  was  an  obstinate  ring  in  her  voice,  and  when 
she  stopped  speaking  he  sat  silent,  consumed  with 
anxiety,  obsessed  with  the  loveliness  of  her,  and  tor- 
mented with  the  desire  to  tell  her  so.  Then  he  turned  to 
her  suddenly,  and  his  face  was  very  white.  "  Miss  Mayo 
—  Diana  —  put  off  this  trip  only  for  a  little,  and  give  me 
the  right  to  go  with  you.  I  love  you.  I  want  you  for 
my  wife  more  than  anything  on  earth.  I  shan't  always 
be  a  penniless  subaltern.  One  of  these  days  I  shall  be  able 
to  give  you  a  position  that  is  worthy  of  you ;  no,  nothing 
could  be  that,  but  one  at  least  that  I  am  not  ashamed  to 
offer  to  you.  We've  been  very  good  friends;  you  know 
all  about  me.  I'll  give  my  whole  life  to  make  you  happy. 
The  world  has  been  a  different  place  to  me  since  you 
came  into  it.  I  can't  get  away  from  you.  You  are  in  my 
thoughts  night  and  day.  I  love  you;  I  want  you.  My 
God,  Diana !    Beauty  like  yours  drives  a  man  mad !  " 

\f  Is  beauty  all  that  a  man  wants  in  his  wife  ?  "  she 
asked,  with  a  kind  of  cold  wonder  in  her  voice.  "  Brains 
and  a  sound  body  seem  much  more  sensible  requirements 
to  me. ' 

"  But  when  a  woman  has  all  three,  as  you  have,  Diana," 
he  whispered  ardently,  his  hands  closing  over  the  slim 
ones  lying  in  her  lap. 

But  with  a  strength  that  seemed  impossible  for  their 
smallness  she  disengaged  them  from  his  grasp.  "  Please 
stop.  I  am  sorry.  We  have  been  good  friends,  and  it 
has  never  occurred  to  me  that  there  could  be  anything 
beyond  that.  I  never  thought  that  you  might  love  me.  I 
never  thought  of  you  in  that  way  at  all.    I  don't  under- 


THE  SHEIK 


11 


stand  it.  When  God  made  me  He  omitted  to  give  me  a 
heart.  I  have  never  loved  any  one  in  my  life.  My 
brother  and  I  have  tolerated  each  other,  but  there  has 
never  been  any  affection  between  us.  Would  it  be  likely  ? 
Put  yourself  in  Aubrey's  place.  Imagine  a  young  man 
of  nineteen,  with  a  cold,  reserved  nature,  being  burdened 
with  the  care  of  a  baby  sist:-r,  thrust  into  his  hands  un- 
wanted and  unexpected.  yVas  it  likely  that  he  would 
have  any  affection  for  me?  I  never  wanted  it.  I  was 
born  with  the  same  cold  nature  as  his.  I  was  brought  up 
as  a  boy,  my  training  was  hard.  Emotion  and  affection 
have  been  barred  out  of  my  life.  I  simply  don't  know 
what  they  mean.  I  don't  want  to  know.  I  am  very  con- 
tent with  my  life  as  it  is.  Marriage  for  a  woman  means 
the  end  of  independence,  that  is,  marriage  with  a  man 
who  is  a  man,  in  spite  of  all  that  the  most  modern  woman 
may  say.  I  have  never  obeyed  any  one  in  my  life;  I  do 
not  wish  to  try  the  experiment.  I  am  very  sorry  to  have 
hurt  you.  You've  been  a  splendid  pal,  but  that  side  of 
life  does  not  exist  for  me.  If  I  had  thought  for  one 
moment  that  my  friendship  was  going  to  hurt  you  I  need 
not  have  let  you  become  so  intimate,  but  I  did  not  think, 
because  it  is  a  subject  that  I  never  think  of.  A  man 
to  me  is  just  a  companion  with  whom  I  ride  or  shoot 
or  fish;  a  pal,  a  comrade,  and  that's  just  all  there  is  to  it. 
God  made  me  a  woman.    Why,  only  He  knows." 

Her  quiet,  even  voice  stopped.  There  had  been  a 
tone  of  cold  sincerity  in  it  that  Arbuthnot  could  not  help 
but  recognise.  She  meant  everything  that  she  said.  She 
said  no  more  than  the  truth.  Her  reputation  for  com- 
plete indifference  to  admiration  and  her  unvarying  atti- 
tude towards  men  were  as  well  known  as  hei  dauntless 


12 


THE  SHEIK 


courage  and  obstinate  determination.  With  Sir  Aubrey 
Mayo  she  behaved  like  a  younger  brother,  and  as  such 
entertained  his  friends.  She  was  popular  with  every- 
body, even  with  the  mothers  of  marriageable  daughters, 
for,  in  spite  of  her  wealth  and  beauty,  her  notorious 
peculiarities  made  her  negligible  as  a  rival  to  plainer  and 
less  well-dowered  girls. 

Arbuthnot  sat  in  silence.  It  was  hardly  likely,  he 
thought  bitterly,  that  he  should  succeed  where  other  and 
better  men  had  failed.  He  had  been  a  fool  to  succumb 
to  the  temptation  that  had  been  too  hard  for  him  to 
resist.  He  knew  her  well  enough  to  know  beforehand 
what  her  answer  would  be.  The  very  real  fear  for  her 
safety  that  the  thought  of  the  coming  expedition  gave 
him,  her  nearness  in  the  mystery  of  the  Eastern  night,  the 
lights,  the  music,  had  all  combined  to  rush  to  his  lips 
words  that  in  a  saner  moment  would  never  have  passed 
them.  He  loved  her,  he  would  love  her  always,  but  he 
knew  that  his  love  was  as  hopeless  as  it  was  undying. 
But  it  was  men  who  were  men  whom  she  wanted  for 
her  friends,  so  he  must  take  his  medicine  like  a  man. 

"  May  I  still  be  the  pal,  Diana?  "  he  said  quietly. 

She  looked  at  him  a  moment,  but  in  the  dim  light  of 
the  hanging  lanterns  his  eyes  were  steady  under  hers,  and 
she  held  out  her  hand  frankly.  "  Gladly,"  she  said  can- 
didly. "  I  have  hosts  of  acquaintances,  but  very  few 
friends.  We  are  always  travelling,  Aubrey  and  I,  and  we 
never  seem  to  have  time  to  make  friends.  We  rarely  stay 
as  long  in  one  place  as  we  have  stayed  in  Biskra.  In 
England  they  call  us  very  bad  neighbours,  we  are  so  sel- 
dom there.   We  generally  go  home  for  three  months  in 


THE  SHEIK 


13 


the  winter  for  the  hunting,  but  the  rest  of  the  year  we 
wander  on  the  face  of  the  globe." 

He  held  her  slender  fingers  gripped  in  his  for  a  mo- 
ment, smothering  an  insane  desire  to  press  them  to  his 
lips,  which  he  knew  would  be  fatal  to  the  newly  ac- 
corded friendship,  and  then  let  them  go.  Miss  Mayo 
continued  sitting  quietly  beside  him.  She  was  in  no 
way  disturbed  by  what  had  happened.  She  had  taken 
him  literally  at  his  word,  and  was  treating  him  as  the  pal 
he  had  asked  to  be.  It  no  more  occurred  to  her  that  she 
might  relieve  him  of  her  society  than  it  occurred  to  her 
that  her  continued  presence  might  be  distressing  to  him. 
She  was  totally  unembarrassed  and  completely  un-self- 
conscious.  And  as  they  sat  silent,  her  thoughts  far  away 
in  the  desert,  and  his  full  of  vain  longings  and  regrets,  a 
man's  low  voice  rose  in  the  stillness  of  the  night.  "  Pale 
hands  I  loved  beside  the  Shalimar.  Where  are  you  now? 
Who  lies  beneath  your  spell?"  he  sang  in  a  passionate, 
vibrating  baritone.  He  was  singing  in  English,  and  yet 
the  almost  indefinite  slurring  from  note  to  note  was 
strangely  un-English.  Diana  Mayo  leaned  forward,  her 
head  raised,  listening  intently,  with  shining  eyes.  The 
voice  seemed  to  come  from  the  dark  shadows  at  the  end 
of  the  garden,  or  it  might  have  been  further  away  out  in 
the  road  beyond  the  cactus  hedge.  The  singer  sang 
slowly,  his  voice  lingering  caressingly  on  the  words;  the 
last  verse  dying  away  softly  and  clearly,  almost  imper- 
ceptibly fading  into  silence. 

For  a  moment  there  was  utter  stillness,  then  Diana 
lay  back  with  a  little  sigh.  "  The  Kashmiri  Song.  It 
makes  me  think  of  India.    I  heard  a  man  sing  it  in  Kash- 


14 


iTHE  SHEIK 


mere  last  year,  but  not  like  that.  What  a  wonderful 
voice!    I  wonder  who  it  is?" 

Arbuthnot  looked  at  her  curiously,  surprised  at  the 
sudden  ring  of  interest  in  her  tone,  and  the  sudden  ani- 
mation of  her  face. 

"  You  say  you  have  no  emotion  in  your  nature,  and  yet 
that  unknown  man's  singing  has  stirred  you  deeply.  How 
do  you  reconcile  the  two  ?  "  he  asked,  almost  angrily. 

"Is  an  appreciation  of  the  beautiful  emotion?"  she 
challenged,  with  uplifted  eyes.  "  Surely  not.  Music, 
art,  nature,  everything  beautiful  appeals  to  me.  But 
there  is  nothing  emotional  in  that.  It  is  only  that  I  prefer 
beautiful  things  to  ugly  ones.  For  that  reason  even  pretty 
clothes  appeal  to  me,"  she  added,  laughing. 

"  You  are  the  best-dressed  woman  in  Biskra,"  he  ac- 
ceded. "  But  is  not  that  a  concession  to  the  womanly 
feelings  that  you  despise  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  To  take  an  interest  in  one's  clothes  is 
not  an  exclusively  feminine  vice.  I  like  pretty  dresses. 
I  admit  to  spending  some  time  in  thinking  of  colour 
schemes  to  go  with  my  horrible  hair,  but  I  assure  you 
that  my  dressmaker  has  an  easier  life  than  Aubrey's 
tailor." 

She  sat  silent,  hoping  that  the  singer  might  not  have 
gone,  but  there  was  no  sound  except  a  cicada  chirping 
near  her.  She  swung  round  in  her  chair,  looking  in  the 
direction  from  which  it  came.  *'  Listen  to  him.  Jolly 
little  chap!  They  are  the  first  things  I  listen  for  when 
I  get  to  Port  Said.    They  mean  the  East  to  me." 

"  Maddening  little  beasts !  "  said  .Arbuthnot  irritably. 

"  They  are  going  to  be  very  friendly  little  beasts  to  me 
during  the  next  four  weeks.  .  .  .  You  don't  know  what 


THE  SHEIK 


this  trip  means  to  me.  I  like  wild  places.  The  happiest 
times  of  my  life  have  been  spent  camping  in  America  and 
India,  and  I  have  always  wanted  the  desert  more  than 
either  of  them.  It  is  going  to  be  a  month  of  pure  joy. 
I  am  going  to  be  enormously  happy." 

She  stood  up  with  a  little  laugh  of  intense  pleasure, 
and  half  turned,  waiting  for  Arbuthnot.  He  got  up  re- 
luctantly and  stood  silent  beside  her  for  a  few  moments. 
*  Diana,  I  wish  you'd  let  me  kiss  you,  just  once,"  he  broke 
out  miserably. 

She  looked  up  swiftly  with  a  glint  of  anger  in  her 
eyes,  and  shook  her  head.    "  No.    That's  not  in  the ■ 
compact.    I  have  never  been  kissed  in  my  life.    It  is  one 
of  the  things  that  I  do  not  understand."    Her  voice  was 
almost  fierce. 

She  moved  leisurely  towards  the  hotel,  and  he  paced 
beside  her  wondering  if  he  had  forfeited  her  friendship 
by  his  outburst,  but  on  the  verandah  she  halted  and  spoke 
in  the  frank  tone  of  camaraderie  in  which  she  had  always 
addressed  him.      Shall  I  see  you  in  the  morning?  " 

He  understood.  There  was  to  be  no  more  reference  to 
what  had  passed  between  them.  The  offer  of  friendship 
held,  but  only  on  her  own  terms.  He  pulled  himself  to- 
gether. 

"  Yes.  We  have  arranged  an  escort  of  about  a  dozen 
of  us  to  ride  the  first  few  miles  with  you,  to  give  you  a 
proper  send-off." 

She  made  a  laughing  gesture  of  protest.  "  It  will  cer- 
tainly need  four  weeks  of  solitude  to  counteract  the  con- 
ceit I  shall  acquire,"  she  said  lightly,  as  she  passed  into 
the  ballroom. 

A  few  hours  later  Diana  came  into  her  bedroom,  and, 


i6 


THE  SHEIK 


switching  on  the  electric  lights,  tossed  her  gloves  and 
programme  into  a  chair.  The  room  was  empty,  for  her 
maid  had  had  a  vertige  at  the  suggestion  that  she  should 
accompany  her  mistress  into  the  desert,  and  had  been  sent 
back  to  Paris  to  await  Diana's  return.  She  had  left  dur- 
ing the  day,  to  take  most  of  the  heavy  luggage  with  her. 

Diana  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and  looked  at 
the  preparations  for  the  early  start  next  morning  with  a 
little  smile  of  satisfaction.  Everything  was  en  train;  the 
final  arrangements  had  all  been  concluded  some  days 
before.  The  camel  caravan  with  the  camp  equipment  was 
due  to  leave  Biskra  a  few  hours  before  the  time  fixed  for 
the  Mayos  to  start  with  Mustafa  Ali,  the  reputable  guide 
whom  the  French  authorities  had  reluctantly  recom- 
mended. The  two  big  suit-cases  that  Diana  was  taking 
with  her  stood  open,  ready  packed,  waiting  only  for  the 
last  few  necessaries,  and  by  them  the  steamer  trunk  that 
Sir  Aubrey  would  take  charge  of  and  leave  in  Paris  as 
he  passed  through.  On  a  chaise-longue  was  laid  out  her 
riding  kit  ready  for  the  morning.  Her  smile  broadened 
as  she  looked  at  the  smart-cut  breeches  and  high  brown 
boots.  They  were  the  clothes  in  which  most  of  her  life 
had  been  spent,  and  in  which  she  was  far  more  at  home 
than  in  the  pretty  dresses  over  which  she  had  laughed 
with  Arbuthnot. 

She  was  glad  the  dance  was  over;  it  was  not  a  form 
of  exercise  that  appealed  to  her  particularly.  She  was 
thinking  only  of  the  coming  tour.  She  stretched  her 
arms  out  with  a  little  happy  laugh. 

"  It's  the  life  of  lives,  and  it's  going  to  begin  all  over 
again  to-morrow  morning."  She  crossed  over  to  the 
dressing-table,  and,  propping  her  elbows  on  it,  looked  at 


THE  SHEIK 


17 


herself  in  the  glass,  with  a  little  friendly  smile  at  the 
reflection.  In  default  of  any  other  confidant  she  had 
always  talked  to  herself,  with  no  thought  for  the  beauty 
of  the  face  staring  back  at  her  from  the  glass.  The  only 
comment  she  ever  made  to  herself  on  her  own  appearance 
was  sometimes  to  wish  that  her  hair  was  not  such  a  tire- 
some shade.  She  looked  at  herself  now  with  a  tinge  of 
curiosity.  "  I  wonder  why  I'm  so  especially  happy  to* 
night.  It  must  be  because  we  have  been  so  long  in  Biskra. 
It's  been  very  jolly,  but  I  was  beginning  to  get  very 
bored."  She  laughed  again  and  picked  up  her  watch  to 
wind.  It  was  one  of  her  peculiarities  that  she  would  wear 
no  jewellery  of  any  kind.  Even  the  gold  repeater  in 
her  hand  was  on  a  plain  leather  strap.  She  undressed 
slowly  and  each  moment  felt  more  wide  awake.  Slipping 
a  thin  wrap  over  her  pyjamas  and  lighting  a  cigarette 
she  went  out  on  to  the  broad  balcony  on  to  which  her 
bedroom  gave.  The  room  was  on  the  first  floor,  and 
opposite  her  window  rose  one  of  the  ornately  carved  and 
bracketed  pillars  that  supported  the  balcony,  stretching  up 
to  the  second  story  above  her  head.  She  looked  down 
into  the  gardens  below.  It  was  an  easy  climb,  she 
thought,  with  a  boyish  grin  —  far  easier  than  many  she 
had  achieved  successfully  when  the  need  of  a  solitary 
ramble  became  imperative.  But  the  East  was  inconven- 
ient for  solitary  ramble;  native  servants  had  a  discon- 
certing habit  of  lying  down  to  sleep  wherever  drowsiness 
overcame  them,  and  it  was  not  very  long  since  she  had 
slid  down  from  her  balcony  and  landed  plumb  on  a 
slumbering  bundle  of  humanity  who  had  roused  half  the 
hotel  with  his  howls.  She  leant  far  over  the  rail,  trying  to 
see  into  the  verand?^  V>e1^w.  and  she  thought  she  caught 


i8 


THE  SHEIK 


a  glimpse  of  white  drapery.  She  looked  again,  and  this 
time  there  was  nothing,  but  she  shook  her  head  with  a 
little  grimace,  and  swung  herself  up  on  to  the  broad 
ledge  of  the  railing.  Settling  herself  comfortably  with 
her  back  against  the  column  she  looked  out  over  the  hotel 
gardens  into  the  night,  humming  softly  the  Kashmiri 
song  she  had  heard  earlier  in  the  evening. 

The  risen  moon  was  full,  and  its  cold,  brilliant  light 
filled  the  garden  with  strong  black  shadows.  She 
watched  some  that  seemed  even  to  move,  as  if  the  garden 
were  alive  with  creeping,  hurrying  figures,  and  amused 
herself  tracking  them  until  she  traced  them  to  the  palm 
tree  or  cactus  bush  that  caused  them.  One  in  particular 
gave  her  a  long  hunt  till  she  finally  ran  it  to  its  lair,  and 
it  proved  to  be  the  shadow  of  a  grotesque  lead  statue  half 
hidden  by  a  flowering  shrub.  Forgetting  the  hour  and 
the  open  windows  all  around  her,  she  burst  into  a 
rippling  peal  of  laughter,  which  was  interrupted  by  the 
appearance  of  a  figure,  imperfectly  seen  through  the 
lattice-work  which  divided  her  balcony  from  the  next 
one,  and  the  sound  of  an  irritable  voice. 

*f  For  Heaven's  sake,  Diana,  let  other  people  sleep  if 
you  can't." 

"Which,  being  interpreted,  is  let  Sir  Aubrey  Mayo 
sleep,"  she  retorted,  with  a  chuckle.  "  My  dear  boy, 
sleep  if  you  want  to,  but  I  don't  know  how  you  can 
on  a  night  like  this.  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  gorgeous 
moon  ?  " 

"  Oh,  damn  the  moon ! 99 

"  Oh,  very  well.  Don't  get  cross  about  it.  Go  back  to 
bed  and  put  your  head  under  the  clothes,  and  then  you 
won't  see  it.    But  I'm  going  to  sit  here." 


THE  SHEIK 


19 


"  £>iana,  don't  be  an  idiot !  You'll  go  to  sleep  and  fall 
into  the  garden  and  break  your  neck." 

"  Tant  pis  pour  moi.  Tant  mieux  pour  toi"  she  said 
flippantly.  "  I  have  left  you  all  that  I  have  in  the  world, 
d<?Ar  brother.    Could  devotion  go  further?" 

She  paid  no  heed  to  his  exclamation  of  annoyance,  and 
looked  back  into  the  garden.  It  was  a  wonderful  night, 
silent  except  for  the  cicadas'  monotonous  chirping,  mys- 
terious with  the  inexplicable  mystery  that  hangs  always  in 
the  Oriental  night.  The  smells  of  the  East  rose  up  all 
around  her ;  here,  as  at  home,  they  seemed  more  percept- 
ible by  night  than  by  day.  Often  at  home  she  had  stood 
on  the  little  stone  balcony  outside  her  room,  driiJring  in 
the  smells  of  the  night—- the  pungent,  earthy  smell  after 
rain,  the  aromatic  smell  of  pine  trees  near  the  house.  It 
was  the  intoxicating  smells  of  the  night  that  had  first 
driven  her,  as  a  very  small  child,  to  clamber  down  from 
her  balcony,  clinging  to  the  thick  ivy  roots,  to  wander 
with  the  delightful  sense  of  wrong-doing  through  the 
moonlit  park  and  even  into  the  adjoining  gloomy  woods. 
She  had  always  been  utterly  fearless. 

Her  childhood  had  been  a  strange  one.  There  had  been 
no  near  relatives  to  interest  themselves  in  the  motherless 
girl  left  to  the  tender  mercies  of  a  brother  nearly  twenty 
years  her  senior,  who  was  frankly  and  undisguisedly  hor- 
rified at  the  charge  that  had  been  thrust  upon  him. 
Wrapped  up  in  himself,  and  free  to  indulge  in  the  wander 
hunger  that  gripped  him,  the  baby  sister  was  an  intoler- 
able burden,  and  he  had  shifted  responsibility  in  the 
easiest  way  possible.  For  the  first  few  years  of  her  life 
she  was  left  undisturbed  to  nurses  and  servants  who 
spoiled  her  indiscriminately.    Then,  when  she  was  still 


20 


THE  SHEIK 


quite  a  tiny  child,  Sir  Aubrey  Mayo  came  home  from  a 
long  tour,  and,  settling  down  for  a  couple  of  years,  fixed 
on  his  sister's  future  training,  modelled  rigidly  on  his  own 
upbringing.  Dressed  as  a  boy,  treated  as  a  boy,  she 
learned  to  ride  and  to  shoot  and  to  fish  —  not  as  amuse- 
ments, but  seriously,  to  enable  her  to  take  her  place  later 
on  as  a  companion  to  the  man  whose  only  interests  they 
were.  His  air  of  weariness  was  a  mannerism.  In  real- 
ity he  was  as  hard  as  nails,  and  it  was  his  intention  that 
Diana  should  grow  up  as  hard.  With  that  end  in  view 
her  upbringing  had  been  Spartan,  no  allowances  were 
tnade  for  sex  or  temperament  and  nothing  was  spared  to 
gain  the  desired  result.  And  from  the  first  Diana  had 
responded  gallantly,  throwing  herself  heart  and  soul  into 
the  arduous,  strenuous  life  mapped  out  for  her.  The  only 
drawback  to  a  perfect  enjoyment  of  life  were  the  neces- 
sary lessons  that  had  to  be  gone  through,  though  even 
these  might  have  been  worse.  Every  morning  she  rode 
across  the  park  to  the  rectory  for  a  couple  of  hours'  tui- 
tion with  the  rector,  whose  heart  was  more  in  his  stable 
than  in  his  parish,  and  whose  reputation  was  greater 
across  country  than  it  was  in  the  pulpit.  His  methods 
were  rough  and  ready,  but  she  had  brains,  and  acquired 
an  astonishing  amount  of  diverse  knowledge.  But  her  ed- 
ucation was  stopped  with  abrupt  suddenness  when  she  was 
fifteen  by  the  arrival  at  the  rectory  of  an  overgrown  young 
cub  who  had  been  sent  by  a  despairing  parent,  as  a  last  re- 
source, to  the  muscular  rector,  and  who  quickly  discovered 
what  those  amongst  whom  she  had  grown  up  had  hardly 
realised,  that  Diana  Mayo,  with  the  clothes  and  manners 
of  a  boy,  was  really  an  uncommonly  beautiful  young 
woman.    With  the  assurance  belonging  to  his  type,  he 


\ 

THE  SHEIK  21 

had  taken  the  earliest  opportunity  of  telling  her  so,  fol- 
lowing it  with  an  attempt  to  secure  the  kiss  that  up 
to  now  his  own  good  looks  had  always  secured  for  him. 
But  in  this  case  he  had  to  deal  with  a  girl  who  was  a  girl 
by  accident  of  birth  only,  who  was  quicker  with  her  hands 
and  far  finer  trained  than  he  was,  and  whose  natural 
strength  was  increased  by  furious  rage.  She  had  blacked 
his  eyes  before  he  properly  understood  what  was  happen- 
ing, and  was  dancing  around  him  like  an  infuriated  young 
gamecock  when  the  rector  had  burst  in  upon  them,  at- 
tracted by  the  noise. 

What  she  left  he  had  finished,  and  then,  breathless  and 
angry,  had  ridden  back  across  the  park  with  her  and 
had  briefly  announced  to  Sir  Aubrey,  who  happened  to 
be  at  home  upon  one  of  his  rare  visits,  that  his  pupil  was 
both  too  old  and  too  pretty  to  continue  her  studies  at 
the  rectory,  and  had  taken  himself  off  as  hurriedly  as  he 
had  come,  leaving  Sir  Aubrey  to  settle  for  himself  the  new 
problem  of  Diana.  And,  as  before,  it  was  settled  in  the 
easiest  possible  way.  Physically  she  was  perfectly  able 
to  take  up  the  role  for  which  he  had  always  intended  her ; 
mentally  he  presumed  that  she  knew  as  much  as  it  was 
necessary  for  her  to  know,  and,  in  any  case,  travelling 
itself  was  an  education,  and  a  far  finer  one  than  could  be 
learned  from  books.  So  Diana  grew  up  in  a  day,  and  in 
a  fortnight  the  old  life  was  behind  her  and  she  had 
started  out  on  the  ceaseless  travels  with  her  brother  that 
Jiad  continued  for  the  last  six  years  —  years  of  perpetual 
change,  of  excitements  and  dangers. 

She  thought  of  it  all,  sitting  on  the  broad  rail  of  the 
balcony,  her  head  slanted  against  the  column  on  which 
she  leanedo   "  It's  been  a  splendid  life,"  she  murmured. 


22 


THE  SHEIK 


"and  tomorrow  —  to-day  begins  the  most  perfect  part 
of  it."  She  yawned  and  realised  suddenly  that  she  was 
desperately  sleepy.  She  turned  back  into  her  room,  leav- 
ing the  windows  wide,  and,  flinging  off  her  wrap,  tumbled 
into  bed  and  slept  almost  before  he.  head  was  on  the 
pillow. 

It  must  have  been  about  an  hour  later  when  she  awoke, 
suddenly  wide  awake.  She  lay  quite  still,  looking  cau- 
tiously under  her  thick  lashes.  The  room  was  flooded 
with  moonlight,  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen,  but  she  had 
the  positive  feeling  that  there  was  another  presence  in  the 
room  beside  her  own ;  she  had  had  a  half-conscious  vision 
in  the  moment  of  waking  of  a  shadowy  something  that 
had  seemed  to  fade  away  by  the  window.  As  the  actual 
reality  of  this  thought  pierced  through  the  sleep  that 
dulled  her  brain  and  became  a  concrete  suggestion,  she 
sprang  out  of  the  bed  and  ran  on  to  the  balcony.  It  was 
empty.  She  leaned  over  the  railing,  listening  intently, 
but  she  could  see  nothing  and  hear  nothing.  Puzzled, 
she  went  back  into  her  room  and  turned  on  the  lights. 
Nothing  seemed  to  be  missing:  her  watch  lay  where  she 
had  left  it  on  the  dressing  table;  and  the  suit-cases  had 
apparently  not  been  tampered  with.  By  the  bedside  the 
ivory-mounted  revolver  that  she  always  carried  was 
lying  as  she  had  placed  it.  She  looked  around  the  room 
again,  frowning.  "  It  must  have  been  a  dream,"  she  said 
doubtfully,  "  but  it  seemed  very  real.  It  looked  tall  and 
white  and  solid,  and  I  felt  it  there."  She  waited  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  then  shrugged  her  shoulders,  turned  out  the 
lights,  and  got  into  bed.  Her  nerves  were  admirable,  and 
in  five  minutes  she  was  asleep  again. 


CHAPTER  II 


The  promised  send-off  had  been  enthusiastic.  The 
irrangements  for  the  trip  had  been  perfect;  there  had 
>een  no  hitch  anywhere.  The  guide,  Mustafa  Ali,  ap- 
)eared  capable  and  efficient,  effacing  himself  when  not 
vanted  and  replying  with  courteous  dignity  when  spoken 
o.  The  day  had  been  full  of  interest,  and  the  long,  hot 
ide  had  for  Diana  been  the  height  of  physical  enjoy- 
nent.  They  had  reached  the  oasis  where  the  first  night 
vas  to  be  passed  an  hour  before,  and  found  the  camp 
ilready  established,  tents  pitched,  and  everything  so  or- 
dered that  Sir  Aubrey  could  find  nothing  to  criticise ;  even 
Stephens,  his  servant,  who  had  travelled  with  him  since 
Diana  was  a  baby,  and  who  was  as  critical  as  his  master 
>n  the  subject  of  camps,  had  no  fault  to  find. 

Diana  glanced  about  her  little  travelling  tent  with  com- 
pete content.  It  was  much  smaller  than  the  ones  to 
vhich  she  had  always  been  accustomed,  ridiculously  so 
:ompared  with  the  large  one  she  had  had  in  India  the 
>revious  year,  with  its  separate  bath-  and  dressing-rooms, 
servants,  too,  had  swarmed  in  India.  Here  service  prom- 
sed  to  be  inadequate,  but  it  ha'd  been  her  whim  on  this 
our  to  dispense  with  the  elaborate  arrangements  that  Sir 
\ubrey  cultivated  and  to  try  comparative  roughing  it. 
rhe  narrow  camp  cot,  the  tin  bath,  the  little  foldmg  table 
md  her  two  suit-cases  seemed  to  take  up  all  the  available 
ipace.   But  she  laughed  at  the  inconvenience,  though  she 


24 


THE  SHEIK 


h?d  drenched  her  bed  with  splashing,  and  the  soap  had 
found  its  way  into  the  toe  of  one  of  her  long  boots.  She 
had  changed  from  her  riding  clothes  into  a  dress  of 
clinging  jade-green  silk,  swinging  short  above  her  slender 
ankles,  the  neck  cut  low,  revealing  the  gleaming  white  of 
her  soft,  girlish  bosom.  She  came  out  of  the  tent  and 
stood  a  moment  exchanging  an  amused  smile  with  Steph- 
ens, who  was  hovering  near  dubiously,  one  eye  on  her 
and  the  other  on  his  master.  She  was  late,  and  Sir 
Aubrey  liked  his  meals  punctually.  The  baronet  was! 
lounging  in  one  deck-chair  with  his  feet  on  another. 

Diana   wagged   an    admonishing   fo/efinger.    "  Flyk 
Stephens,  and  fetch  the  soup !    If  it  is  cold  there  will  be 
a  riot."    She  walked  to  the  edge  of  the  canvas  cloth  that 
had  been  thrown  down  in  front  of  the  tents  and  stood 
revelling  in  the  scene  around  her,  her  eyes  dancing  with 
excitement  as  they  glanced  slowly  around  the  camp  spread 
out  over  the  oasis  —  the  clustering  palm  trees,  the  desert 
itself  stretching  away  before  her  in  undulating  sweeps, 
but  seemingly  level  in  the  evening  light,  far  off  to  the 
distant  hills  lying  like  a  dark  smudge  against  the  horizon. 
She  drew  a  long  breath.    It  was  the  desert  at  last,  the 
desert  that  she  felt  she  had  been  longing  for  all  her  life. 
She  had  never  known  until  this  moment  how  intense  the  J 
longing  had  been.    She  felt  strangely  at  home,  as  if  the 
great,  silent  emptiness  had  been  waiting  for  her  as  she 
had  been  waiting  for  it,  and  now  that  she  had  come  it  : 
was  welcoming  her  softly  with  the  faint  rustle  of  the  j 
whispering  sand,  the  mysterious  charm  ol  its  billowy,  ' 
shifting  surface  that  seemed  beckoning  to  her  to  penetrate 
further  and  further  into  its  unknown  obscurities. 

Her  brother's  voice  behind  her  brought  her  down  to 


THE  SHEIK 


25 


earth  suddenly.    "  You've  been  a  confounded  long  time." 

She  turned  to  the  table  with  a  faint  smile.  "  Don't  be  a 
bear,  Aubrey.  It's  all  very  well  for  you.  You  have 
Stephens  to  lather  your  chin  and  to  wash  your  hands, 
but  thanks  to  that  idiot  Marie,  I  have  to  look  after  my- 
self." 

Sir  Aubrey  took  his  heels  down  leisurely  from  the 
second  chair,  pitched  away  his  cigar,  and,  screwing  his 
eyeglass  into  his  eye  with  more  than  usual  truculence, 
looked  at  her  with  disapproval.  "  Are  you  going  to  rig 
yourself  out  like  that  every  evening  for  the  benefit  of 
Mustafa  Ali  and  the  camel-drivers  ? 99 

"  I  do  not  propose  to  invite  the  worthy  Mustafa  to 
meals,  and  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  1  rigging  myself  out/ 
as  you  so  charmingly  put  it,  for  any  one's  benefit.  If 
you  think  I  dress  in  camp  to  please  you,  my  dear  Aubrey, 
you  flatter  yourself.  I  do  it  entirely  to  please  myself. 
That  explorer  woman  we  met  in  London  that  first  year 
I  began  travelling  with  you  explained  to  me  the  real 
moral  and  physical  value  of  changing  into  comfortable, 
pretty  clothes  after  a  hard  day  in  breeches  and  boots. 
You  change  yourself.    What's  the  difference  ?  " 

"  All  the  difference,"  he  snapped.  "  There  is  no  need 
for  you  to  make  yourself  more  attractive  than  you  are 
already." 

'*  Since  when  has  it  occurred  to  you  that  I  am  attrac- 
tive? You  must  have  a  touch  of  the  sun,  Aubrey,"  she 
replied,  with  uplifted  eyebrows,  drumming  impatiently 
with  her  fingers  on  the  table. 

"Don't  quibble.  You  know  perfectly  well  that  you 
are  good-looking  —  too  good-looking  to  carry  through  this 
preposterous  affair." 


26  THE  SHEIK 

"Will  you  please  tell  me  what  you  are  driving  at?* 
she  asked  quietly.  But  the  dark  blue  eyes  fixed  on  her 
brother's  face  were  growing  darker  as  she  looked  at  him. 

"  I've  been  doing  some  hard  thinking  to-day,  Diana. 
This  tour  you  propose  is  impossible." 

"  Isn't  it  rather  late  in  the  day  to  find  that  out  ?  "  she 
interrupted  sarcastically ;  but  he  ignored  the  interruption. 

"  You  must  see  for  yourself,  now  that  you  are  face  to 
face  with  the  thing,  that  it  is  impossble.  It's  quite  un- 
thinkable that  you  can  wander  for  the  next  month  all 
alone  in  the  desert  with  those  damned  niggers.  Though 
my  legal  guardianship  over  you  terminated  last  Septem- 
ber I  still  have  some  moral  obligations  towards  you. 
Though  it  has  been  convenient  to  me  to  bring  you  up  as 
a  boy  and  to  regard  you  in  the  light  of  a  younger  brother 
instead  of  a  sister,  we  cannot  get  away  from  the  fact  that 
you  are  a  woman,  and  a  very  young  woman.  There  are 
certain  things  a  young  woman  cannot  do.  If  you  had 
been  the  boy  I  always  wished  you  were  it  would  have  been 
a  different  matter,  but  you  are  not  a  boy,  and  the  whole 
thing  is  impossible  —  utterly  impossible."  There  was  a 
fretful  impatience  in  his  voice. 

Diana  lit  a  cigarette  slowly,  and  swung  round  on  her 
chair  with  a  hard  laugh.  "If  I  had  not  lived  with  you 
all  my  life,  Aubrey,  I  should  really  be  impressed  with  your  ! 
brotherly  solicitude;  I  should  think  you  really  meant  it. 
But  knowing  you  as  I  do,  I  know  that  it  is  not  anxiety  on  j 
my  behalf  that  is  prompting  you,  but  the  disinclination 
that  you  have  to  travel  alone  without  me.  You  have  come 
to  depend  on  me  to  save  you  certain  annoyances  and  in- 
conveniences that  always  occur  in  travelling.  You  were 
more  honest  in  Biskra  when  you  only  objected  to  my 


THE  SHEIK 


2/ 


trip  without  giving  reasons.  Why  have  you  waited  until 
to-night  to  give  me  those  reasons  ?  " 

"  Because  I  thought  that  here,  at  least,  you  would  have 
sense  enough  to  see  them.  In  Biskra  it  was  impossible 
to  argue  with  you.  You  made  your  own  arrangements 
against  my  wishes.  I  left  it,  feeling  convinced  that  the 
impossibility  of  it  would  be  brought  home  to  you  here, 
and  that  you  would  see  for  yourself  that  it  was  out  of 
the  question.    Diana,  give  up  this  insane  trip." 

"  I  will  not." 

"  I've  a  thundering  good  mind  to  make  you." 

"You  can't.  I'm  my  own  mistress.  You  have  no 
right  over  me  at  all.  You  have  no  claim  on  me.  You 
haven't  even  that  of  ordinary  brotherly  affection,  for 
you  have  never  given  me  any,  so  you  cannot  expect  it 
from  me.  We  needn't  make  any  pretence  about  it.  I 
am  not  going  to  argue  any  more.  I  will  not  go  back  to 
Biskra." 

"  If  you  are  afraid  of  being  laughed  at — "  he  sneered; 
but  she  took  him  up  swiftly. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  being  laughed  at.  Only  cowards 
are  afraid  of  that,  and  I  am  not  a  coward." 

"  Diana,  listen  to  reason !  " 

"Aubrey!  I  have  said  my  last  word.  Nothing  will 
alter  my  determination  to  go  on  this  trip.  Your  argu- 
ments do  not  convince  me,  who  know  you.  It  is  your  own 
considerations  and  not  mine  that  are  at  the  bottom  of  your 
remonstrances.  You  do  not  deny  it,  because  you  can't, 
because  it  is  true." 

They  were  facing  each  other  across  the  little  table.  An 
angry  flush  rose  in  Sir  Aubrey's  face,  and  his  eyeglass  f el* 
with  a  little  sharp  tinkle  against  a  waistcoat  button. 


28  THE  SHEIK 

"  You're  a  damned  obstinate  little  devil !  "  he  said  furi- 
ously. 

She  looked  at  him  steadily,  her  scornful  mouth  firm 
as  his  own.  "  I  am  what  you  have  made  me,"  she  said 
slowly.  "Why  quarrel  with  the  result?  You  have} 
brought  me  up  to  ignore  the  restrictions  attached  to  my 
sex;  you  now  round  on  me  and  throw  them  in  my  face. 
All  my  life  you  have  set  me  an  example  of  selfishness 
and  obstinacy.  Can  you  wonder  that  I  have  profited  by 
it?  You  have  made  me  as  hard  as  yourself,  and  you 
now  profess  surprise  at  the  determination  your  training 
has  forced  upon  me.  You  are  illogical.  It  is  your 
fault,  not  mine.  There  was  bound  to  be  a  clash  some  day. 
It  has  come  sooner  than  I  expected,  that's  all.  Up  till 
now  my  inclinations  have  gone  with  yours,  but  this  seems 
to  be  the  parting  of  the  ways.  As  I  reminded  you  be- 
fore, I  am  my  own  mistress,  and  I  will  submit  to  noj 
interference  with  my  actions.  Please  understand  that 
clearly,  Aubrey.  I  don't  want  to  wrangle  any  more.  I 
will  join  you  in  New  York  as  I  promised.  I  am  not  in 
the  habit  of  breaking  my  promises,  but  my  life  is  my  own 
to  deal  with,  and  I  will  deal  with  it  exactly  as  I  wish  and 
not  as  any  one  else  wishes.  I  will  do  what  I  choose  when 
and  how  I  choose,  and  I  will  never  obey  any  will  but  my 
own." 

Sir  Aubrey's  eyes  narrowed  suddenly.  "  Then  I  hope 
to  Heaven  that  one  day  you  will  fall  into  the  hands  of  a 
man  who  will  make  you  obey,"  he  cried  wrathfully. 

Her  scornful  mouth  curled  still  more  scornfully. 
"  Then  Heaven  help  him ! "  she  retorted  scathingly,  and 
turned  away  to  her  tent. 

But,  alone,  her  anger  gave  way  to  amusement.    It  had 


THE  SHEIK 


29 


been  something,  after  all,  to  rouse  the  lazy  Aubrey  to 
wrath.  She  knew  exactly  the  grievance  he  had  been  nurs- 
ing against  her  during  the  last  few  weeks  in  Biskra. 
Though  he  travelled  perpetually  and  often  in  remote  and 
desolate  places,  he  travelled  with  the  acme  of  comfort 
and  the  minimum  of  inconveniences.  He  put  himself  out 
for  nothing,  and  the  inevitable  difficulties  that  accrued 
fell  on  Diana's  younger  and  less  blase  shoulders.  She 
had  always  known  the  uses  he  put  her  to  and  the  con- 
venience she  was  to  him.  He  might  have  some  latent 
feelings  with  regard  to  the  inadvisability  of  her  behavior, 
he  might  even  have  some  prickings  of  conscience  on  the 
subject  of  his  upbringing  of  her,  but  it  was  thoughts 
of  his  own  comfort  that  were  troubling  him  most.  That 
she  knew,  and  the  knowledge  was  not  conducive  to 
any  kinder  feeling  towards  him.  He  always  had  been 
and  always  would  be  supremely  selfish.  The  whole  of 
their  life  together  had  been  conducted  to  suit  his  con- 
veniences and  not  hers.  She  knew,  too,  why  her  com- 
pany was  particularly  desired  on  his  visit  to  America. 
It  was  a  hunting  trip,  out  not  the  kind  that  they  were 
usually  accustomed  to:  it  was  a  wife  and  not  big  game 
that  was  taking  Sir  Aubrey  across  the  ocean  on  this 
occasion.  It  had  been  in  his  mind  for  some  time  as  an 
inevitable  and  somewhat  unpleasant  necessity.  Women 
bored  him,  and  the  idea  of  marriage  was  distasteful,  but 
a  son  to  succeed  him  was  imperative  —  a  Mayo  must 
be  followed  by  a  Mayo.  An  heir  was  essential  for  the 
big  property  that  the  family  had  held  for  hundreds  of 
years.  No  woman  had  ever  attracted  him,  but  of  all 
women  he  had  met  American  women  were  less  actively 
irritating  to  him,  and  so  it  was  to  America  that  he  turned 


30 


THE  SHEIK 


in  search  of  a  wife.  He  proposed  to  take  a  house  in 
New  York  for  a  few  months  and  later  on  in  Newport, 
and  it  was  for  that  that  Diana's  company  was  considered 
indispensable.  She  would  save  him  endless  trouble,  as 
all  arrangements  could  be  left  in  her  hands  and  Stephens'. 
Having  made  up  his  mind  to  go  through  with  a  pro- 
ceeding that  he  regarded  in  the  light  of  a  sacrifice  on 
the  family  altar,  his  wish  was  to  get  it  over  and  done 
with  as  soon  as  possible,  and  Diana's  interference  in  his 
plans  had  exasperated  him.  It  was  the  first  time  that 
their  wills  had  crossed,  and  she  shrugged  her  shoulders 
impatiently,  with  a  grimace  at  the  recollection.  A  little 
more  and  it  would  have  degenerated  into  a  vulgar  quarrel. 
She  banished  Aubrey  and  his  selfishness  resolutely  from 
her  mind.  It  was  very  hot,  and  she  lay  very  still  in  the 
narrow  cot,  wishing  she  had  not  been  so  rigid  in  the 
matter  of  its  width,  and  wondering  if  a  sudden  movement 
in  the  night  would  precipitate  her  into  the  bath  that  stood 
alongside.  She  thought  regretfully  of  a  punkah,  and 
then  smiled  derisively  at  herself. 

"  Sybarite ! "  she  murmured  sleepily.  "  You  need  a 
few  discomforts." 

She  was  almost  aggressively  cheerful  next  morning  at 
breakfast  and  for  the  time  that  they  lingered  at  the  oasis 
after  the  baggage  camels  had  started.  Sir  Aubrey  was 
morose  and  silent,  and  she  exchanged  most  of  her  badi- 
nage with  Stephens,  who  was  superintending  the  packing 
of  the  tiffin  basket  that  would  accompany  her  in  charge  of 
the  man  who  had  been  selected  as  her  personal  servant, 
and  who  was  waiting,  with  Mustafa  Ali  and  about  ten 
men,  to  ride  with  her. 


THE  SHEIK 


3i 


The  time  for  starting  came.  Stephens  was  fussing 
about  the  horse  that  Diana  was  to  ride. 

"  Everything  all  right,  Stephens  ?  Up  to  your  stand- 
ard? Don't  look  so  glum.  I  wish  you  were  coming  to 
look  after  me,  but  it  couldn't  be  done.  Sir  Aubrey  would 
be  lost  without  you." 

The  idea  of  a  tour  without  Stephens  in  the  background 
seemed  suddenly  momentous,  and  the  smile  she  gave  him 
was  more  serious  than  she  meant  it  to  be.  She  went 
back  to  her  brother,  who  was  pulling  his  moustache  sav- 
agely. "  I  don't  think  there's  any  use  waiting  any  longer. 
You  won't  want  to  hurry  yourself  too  much,  and  you 
will  want  to  be  in  Biskra  in  time  for  dinner,"  she  said 
as  casually  as  she  could. 

He  swung  towards  her.  "  Diana,  it's  still  not  too  late 
to  change  your  mind.  For  Heaven's  sake  give  up  this 
folly.  It's  tempting  Providence."  For  the  first  time 
there  was  a  genuine  ring  in  his  voice,  and  for  a  moment 
Diana  wavered,  but  only  for  a  moment.  Then  she  looked 
at  him  with  a  slow  smile. 

"  Do  I  fall  on  your  neck  and  say,  '  Take  me  back,  dear 
Guardian;  I  will  be  good/  or  do  I  prostrate  myself  at 
your  feet  and  knock  my  head  on  your  boots,  and  whine, 
in  the  language  of  the  country,  '  Hearing  is  obeying '  ? 
Don't  be  ridiculous,  Aubrey.  You  can't  expect  me  to 
change  my  mind  at  the  eleventh  hour.  It's  perfectly 
safe.  Mustafa  Ali  will  take  care  that  everything  goes 
smoothly.  He  has  his  reputation  in  Biskra  to  think  of. 
You  know  the  character  the  authorities  gave  him.  He  is 
not  likely  to  throw  that  away.  In  any  case  I  can  take 
care  of  myself,  thanks  to  your  training.    I  don't  mind 


32 


THE  SHEIK 


owning  to  being  conceited  about  my  shooting.  Even  you 
admit  that  I  am  a  credit  to  your  teaching." 

With  a  gay  little  laugh  she  whipped  out  the  ivory- 
mounted  revolver,  and  aiming  at  a  low  flat  rock,  some 
distance  away,  fired.  She  was  an  unusually  good  revolver 
shot,  but  this  time  she  seemed  to  have  missed.  There  was 
no  mark  on  the  stone.  Diana  stared  at  it  stupidly,  a 
frown  of  perplexity  creasing  her  forehead.  Then  she 
looked  at  her  brother,  and  back  to  the  revolver  in  her 
hand. 

Sir  Aubrey  swore.  "  Diana !  What  a  senseless  piece 
of  bravado !  "  he  cried  angrily. 

She  took  no  notice  of  him.  She  was  still  staring  at 
the  smooth  rock  face.  "  I  don't  understand  it.  How 
could  I  miss?  It's  as  big  as  a  house,"  she  murmured 
thoughtfully,  and  raised  the  revolver  again. 

But  Sir  Aubrey  caught  her  wrist.  "  For  God's  sake 
don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself  a  second  time.  You  have 
lowered  your  prestige  quite  enough  already,"  he  said  in 
a  low  voice,  with  a  glance  at  the  group  of  watching  Arabs. 

Diana  jerked  the  little  weapon  back  into  its  place  re- 
luctantly. "  I  don't  understand  it,"  she  said  again.  "  It 
must  be  the  light."  She  mounted  and  wheeled  her  horse 
alongside  of  Sir  Aubrey's,  and  held  out  her  hand. 
"  Good-bye,  Aubrey.  Expect  me  a  month  after  you  ar- 
rive. I  will  cable  to  you  from  Cherbourg.  Good  luck! 
I  shall  roll  up  in  time  to  be  best  man,"  she  added,  laughing, 
and  with  a  nod  to  Mustafa  Ali  she  turned  her  horse's 
head  southwards. 

For  a  long  time  she  rode  in  silence.  The  quarrel 
with  Aubrey  had  left  a  nasty  taste  in  her  mouth.  She 
knew  that  what  she  was  doing  was  considered  unconven- 


THE  SHEIK 


33 


tional,  but  she  had  been  brought  up  to  be  unconventional. 
She  had  never  even  thought,  when  she  planned  her  tour, 
of  possible  criticism;  it  would  have  made  no  difference 
to  her  if  she  had  thought,  and  she  had  been  amazed  and 
amused  at  the  sensation  that  her  proposed  trip  had  caused. 
The  publicity  to  which  it  had  given  rise  had  annoyed 
her  intensely;  she  had  been  scornful  that  people  could 
not  occupy  themselves  with  their  own  affairs  and  leave 
her  to  deal  with  hers.  But  that  Aubrey  should  join  in 
the  general  criticism  and  present  such  a  complete  volte-face 
to  the  opinions  he  had  always  held  was  beyond  her  com- 
prehension. She  was  angry  with  him,  and  contempt  was 
mingled  with  her  anger.  It  was  inconsistent  with  the 
whole  of  his  lifelong  attitude  toward  her,  and  the  discov- 
ery of  his  altered  ideas  left  her  rather  breathless  and  more 
than  ever  determined  to  adhere  to  her  own  deeply-rooted 
convictions.  Aubrey  was  responsible  for  them,  he  had 
instilled  them,  and  if  he  chose  now  to  abandon  them  that 
was  his  look-out.  For  her  own  part  she  saw  no  reason 
to  change  principles  she  had  been  brought  up  in.  If 
Aubrey  really  thought  there  was  danger  in  this  expedition 
he  could  have  sacrificed  himself  for  once  and  come  with 
her.  As  Jim  Arbuthnot  had  said,  it  was  only  a  month, 
a  negligible  length  of  time,  but  Aubrey's  selfishness  would 
not  allow  him  to  make  that  concession  any  more  than  her 
own  obstinacy  would  allow  her  to  give  way.  It  was  too 
much  to  expect.  And  this  was  the  desert!  It  was  the 
expedition  that  she  had  dreamed  of  and  planned  for  years. 
She  could  not  give  it  up.  The  idea  of  danger  brought 
a  little  laugh  to  her  lips.  How  could  anything  in  the 
desert  hurt  her?  It  had  been  calling  to  her  always. 
There  was  nothing  strange  about  the  scene  that  lay  all 


34  THE  SHEIK 


around  her.  Her  surroundings  seemed  oddly  familiar. 
The  burning  sun  overhead  in  the  cloudless  sky,  the  shim- 
mering  haze  rising  from  the  hot,  dry  ground,  the  feathery 
outline  of  some  clustering  palm  trees  in  a  tiny  distant 
oasis  were  like  remembrances  that  she  watched  again  with 
a  feeling  of  gladness  that  was  fuller  and  deeper  than 
anything  that  she  had  been  conscious  of  before.  She  was 
radiantly  happy  —  happy  in  the  sense  of  her  youth  and 
strength,  her  perfect  physical  fitness,  happy  in  the  capacity 
of  her  power  of  enjoyment,  happy  with  the  touch  of  the 
keen,  nervous  horse  between  her  knees,  exhilarated  with 
her  new  authority.  She  had  looked  forward  so  eagerly, 
and  realisation  was  proving  infinitely  greater  than  antici- 
pation. And  for  a  whole  month  this  perfect  happiness 
was  to  be  hers.  She  thought  of  her  promise  to  Aubrey 
with  impatience.  To  give  up  the  joyous  freedom  of  the  ! 
desert  for  the  commonplace  round  of  American  social 
life  seemed  preposterous.  The  thought  of  the  weeks  in 
New  York  were  frankly  tedious;  Newport  would  be  a  I 
little  less  bad,  for  there  were  alleviations.  The  only 
hope  was  that  Aubrey  would  find  the  wife  he  was  look- 
ing for  quickly  and  release  her  from  an  obligation  that 
was  going  to  be  very  wearisome.  ^Aubrey  was  counting 
on  her,  and  it  would  be  unsporting  to  let  him  down;  she 
would  have  to  keep  her  promise,  but  she  would  be  glad 
when  it  was  over.  Aubrey  married  would  settle  definitely 
the  possibility  of  any  further  disagreements  between 
them.  She  wondered  vaguely  what  the  future  Lady 
Mayo  would  be  like,  but  she  did  not  expend  much  pity  on 
her.  American  girls  as  a  rule  were  well  able  to  care  for 
themselves.  She  stroked  her  horse  with  a  little  smile. 
Aubrey  and  his  possible  wife  seemed  singularly  unin- 


THE  SHEIK 


teresting  beside  the  vivid  interest  of  the  moment.  A  car- 
avan that  had  been  visible  for  a  long  time  coming  towards 
them  drew  nearer,  and  Diana  reined  in  to  watch  the  long 
line  of  slow,  lurching  camels  passing.  The  great  beasts, 
with  their  disdainful  tread  and  long,  swaying  necks,  never 
i  failed  to  interest  her.  It  was  a  large  caravan ;  the  bales 
jon  the  camels'  backs  looked  heavy,  and  beside  the  merch- 
i  ants  on  riding  camels  and  a  motley  crowd  of  followers  — 
some  on  lean  little  donkeys  and  others  on  foot  —  there 
was  an  armed  guard  of  mounted  men.  It  took  some 
time  to  pass.  One  of  two  of  the  camels  carried  huddled 
figures,  swathed  and  shapeless  with  a  multitude  of  cover- 
ings, that  Diana  knew  must  be  women.  The  contrast  be- 
tween them  and  herself  was  almost  ridiculous.  It  made 
her  feel  stifled  even  to  look  at  them.  She  wondered  what 
their  lives  were  like,  if  they  ever  rebelled  against  the 
drudgery  and  restrictions  that  were  imposed  upon  them, 
if  they  ever  longed  for  the  freedom  that  she  was  revelling 
in,  or  if  custom  and  usage  were  so  strong  that  they  had 
no  thoughts  beyond  the  narrow  life  they  led.  The  thought 
of  those  lives  filled  her  with  aversion.  The  idea  of  mar- 
riage—  even  in  its  highest  form,  based  on  mutual  con- 
sideration and  mutual  forbearance  —  was  repugnant  to 
her.  She  thought  of  it  with  a  shiver  of  absolute  repul- 
sion. To  Aubrey  it  was  distasteful,  but  to  her  cold, 
reserved  temperament  it  was  a  thing  of  horror  and  dis- 
gust. That  women  could  submit  to  the  degrading  inti- 
macy and  fettered  existence  of  married  life  filled  her  with 
scornful  wonder.  To  be  bound  irrevocably  to  the  will 
and  pleasure  of  a  man  who  would  have  the  right  to  de- 
mand obedience  in  all  that  constituted  marriage  and  the 
strength  to  enforce  those  claims  revolted  her.    For  a 


36 


THE  SHEIK 


Western  woman  it  was  bad  enough,  but  for  the  women 
of  the  East,  mere  slaves  of  the  passions  of  the  men  who 
owned  them,  unconsidered,  disregarded,  reduced  to  the 
level  of  animals,  the  bare  idea  made  her  quiver  and  bring 
her  hand  down  heavily  on  her  horse's  neck.  The  nervous 
creature  started  sharply  and  she  let  him  go,  calling  to 
Mustafa  Ali  as  she  cantered  past  him.  He  had  ridden 
to  meet  the  caravan  and  was  dismounted,  deep  in  conver- 
sation with  the  chief  of  the  armed  guard.  With  the 
thoughts  that  it  had  provoked  the  caravan  had  lost  all 
interest  for  Diana.  She  wanted  to  get  away  from  it,  to  , 
forget  it,  and  she  rode  on  unmindful  of  her  escort,  who, 
like  her  guide,  had  stopped  to  speak  with  the  traders. 
Diana's  horse  was  fleet,  and  it  was  some  time  before  they 
caught  her  up.  There  was  a  look  of  annoyance  on  : 
Mustafa  Ali's  face  as  she  turned  on  hearing  them  behind 
her  and  signed  to  him  to  ride  beside  her. 

"  Mademoiselle  is  not  interested  in  the  caravan  ?  "  he 
asked  curiously. 

"  No,"  she  replied  shortly,  and  asked  for  some  details 
connected  with  her  own  expedition.  The  man  talked 
easily  and  well,  in  fluent  French,  and  after  giving  the 
required  information,  volunteered  anecdotes  relating  to 
various  well-known  people  whom  he  had  guided  in  the 
desert.  Diana  watched  him  interestedly.  He  seemed  a 
man  of  about  middle  age,  though  it  was  difficult  to  guess 
more  than  approximately,  for  the  thick,  peaked  beard  that 
hid  both  mouth  and  chin  made  him  look  older  than  he 
really  was.  His  beard  had  been  his  only  drawback  from 
Diana's  point  of  view,  for  she  judged  men  by  their  mouths. 
Eyes  were  untrustworthy  evidences  of  character  in  an  j 
Oriental,  for  they  usually  wavered  under  a  European's. 


THE  SHEIK 


o? 


Mustafa  All's  were  wavering  now  as  she  looked  at  him, 
and  it  occurred  to  her  that  they  had  not  seemed  nearly 
so  shifty  in  Biskra  when  she  had  engaged  him.  But  she 
attached  no  importance  to  the  thought,  and  dismissed  it 
as  much  less  interesting  than  the  great  difference  dis- 
played in  their  respective  modes  of  riding.  The  Arab's 
exaggeratedly  short  stirrup  would  have  given  her  agonies 
3f  cramp.  She  pointed  the  difference  with  a  laugh  of 
amusement  and  drew  the  man  on  to  speak  of  his  horses. 
The  one  Diana  was  riding  was  an  unusually  fine  beast, 
and  had  been  one  of  the  greatest  points  in  the  guide's 
favour  when  he  had  brought  it  for  her  inspection.  He 
was  enthusiastic  in  its  praise,  but  volubly  vague  as  to  its 
antecedents,  which  left  Diana  with  the  conviction  that 
the  animal  had  either  been  stolen  or  acquired  in  some 
irregular  manner  and  that  it  would  be  tactless  to  pursue 
further  inquiries.  After  all  it  was  no  business  of  hers. 
It  was  enough  that  her  trip  was  to  be  conducted  on  the 
back  of  a  horse  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  ride  and  whose 
vagaries  promised  to  give  interest  to  what  otherwise 
might  have  been  monotonous.  Some  of  the  horses  that 
she  had  seen  in  Biskra  had  been  the  veriest  jades. 

She  asked  Mustafa  Ali  about  the  country  through 
which  they  were  passing,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  have 
much  information  that  was  really  of  interest,  or  what 
seemed  important  to  him  appeared  trivial  to  her,  and  he 
constantly  brought  the  conversation  back  to  Biskra,  of 
which  she  was  tired,  or  to  Oran,  of  which  she  knew 
nothing.  The  arrival  at  a  little  oasis  where  the  guide  sug- 
gested that  the  midday  halt  might  be  made  was  opportune. 
Diana  swung  to  the  ground,  and,  tossing  down  her  gloves, 
gave  herself  a  shake.    It  was  hot  work  riding  in  the 


THE  SHEIK 


burning  sun  and  the  rest  would  be  delightful.  She  had  I 
a  thoroughly  healthy  appetite,  and  superintended  the  lay- 
ing out  of  her  lunch  with  interest.  It  was  the  last  time  I 
that  it  would  be  as  daintily  packed.  Stephens  was  ar*i 
artist  with  a  picnic  basket.  She  was  going  to  miss| 
Stephens.  She  finished  her  lunch  quickly,  and  then,  witlin 
her  back  propped  against  a  palm  tree,  a  cigarette  in  her; 
mouth,  her  arms  clasped  round  her  knees,  she  settled  down 
happily,  overlooking  the  desert.  The  noontime  huslji 
seemed  over  everything.  Not  a  breath  of  wind  stirred1! 
the  tops  of  the  palms ;  a  lizard  on  a  rock  near  her  was  the 
only  living  thing  she  could  see.  She  glanced  over  her' 
shoulder.  The  men,  with  their  big  cloaks  drawn  overjf 
their  heads,  were  lying  asleep,  or  at  any  rate  appeared  to 
be  so ;  only  Mustafa  Ali  was  on  foot,  standing  at  the  edge 
of  the  oasis,  staring  fixedly  in  the  direction  in  which  they 
would  ride  later. 

Diana  threw  the  end  of  her  cigarette  at  the  lizard  and 
laughed  at  its  precipitant  flight.  She  had  no  desire  toj 
follow  the  example  of  her  escort  and  sleep.  She  was; 
much  too  happy  to  lose  a  minute  of  her  enjoyment  by 
wasting  it  in  rest  that  she  did  not  require.  She  was  per- 
fectly content  and  satisfied  with  herself  and  her  outlook. . 
She  had  not  a  care  or  a  thought  in  the  world.  There 
was  not  a  thing  that  she  would  have  changed  or  altered. 
Her  life  had  always  been  happy;  she  had  extracted  the 
last  ounce  of  pleasure  out  of  every  moment  of  it.  Thaw 
her  happiness  was  due  to  the  wealth  that  had  enabled  her 
to  indulge  in  the  sports  and  constant  travel  that  made  up  I 
the  sum  total  of  her  desires  never  occurred  to  her.  That|t 
what  composed  her  pleasure  in  life  was  possible  only/ 
because  she  was  rich  enough  to  buy  the  means  of  gratify-  - 


THE  SHEIK 


39 


ing  it  did  not  enter  her  head.  She  thought  of  her  wealth 
no  more  than  of  her  beauty.  The  business  connected 
with  her  coming  of  age,  when  the  big  fortune  left  to  her 
by  her  father  passed  unreservedly  into  her  own  hands,  was 
a  wearisome  necessity  that  had  been  got  through  as 
expeditiously  as  possible,  with  as  little  attention  to  detail 
as  the  old  family  lawyer  had  allowed,  and  an  absence  of 
interest  that  was  evidenced  in  the  careless  scrawl  she  at- 
tached to  each  document  that  was  given  her  to  sign.  The 
I mere  money  in  itself  was  nothing;  it  was  only  a  means  to 
an  end.  She  had  never  even  realised  how  much  was 
;expended  on  the  continuous  and  luxurious  expeditions 
that  she  had  made  with  Sir  Aubrey;  her  own  individual 
jtastes  were  simple,  and  apart  from  the  expensive  equip- 
ment that  was  indispensable  for  their  hunting  trips,  and 
jiwhich  was  Aubrey's  choosing,  not  hers,  she  was  not  ex- 
travagant. The  long  list  of  figures  that  had  been  so 
boring  during  the  tedious  hours  that  she  had  spent  with 
the  lawyer,  grudging  every  second  of  the  glorious  Septem- 
ber morning  that  she  had  had  to  waste  in  the  library  when 
jjshe  was  longing  to  be  out  of  doors,  had  conveyed  nothing 
jto  her  beyond  the  fact  that  in  future  when  she  wanted 
anything  she  would  be  put  to  the  trouble  of  writing  out 
j'an  absurd  piece  of  paper  herself,  instead  of  leaving  the 
l^natter  in  Aubrey's  hands,  as  she  had  done  hitherto. 

She  had  hardly  understood  and  had  been  much  em- 
Bbarrassed  by  the  formal  and  pedantic  congratulations  with 
Ifwhich  the  lawyer  had  concluded  his  business  statement. 
{She  was  not  aware  that  she  was  an  object  of  congratula- 
tion, It  all  seemed  very  stupid  and  uninteresting.  Of 
Ijreal  life  she  knew  nothing  and  of  the  ordinary  ties  and 
i&ttachments  of  family  life  less  than  nothing.  Aubrey's 


40  THE  SHEIK 

cold,  loveless  training  had  debarred  her  from  all  affec- 
tion; she  had  grown  up  oblivious  of  it.  Love  did  not 
exist  for  her;  from  even  the  thought  of  passion  she  shrank 
instinctively  with  the  same  fastidiousness  as  she  did  from 
actual  physical  uncleanliness. 

That  she  had  awakened  an  emotion  that  she  did  not 
understand  herself  in  certain  men  had  been  an  annoyance 
that  had  become  more  intolerable  with  repetition.  She; 
had  hated  them  and  herself  impartially,  and  she  had 
scorned  them  fiercely.  She  had  never  been  so  gentle  and 
so  human  with  any  one  as  she  had  been  with  Jim  Arbuth- 
not,  and  that  only  because  she  was  so  radiantly  happy  that 
night  that  not  even  the  distasteful  reminder  that  she  was 
a  woman  whom  a  man  coveted  was  able  to  disturb  her 
happiness.  But  here  there  was  no  need  to  dwell  on 
annoyances  or  distasteful  reminders. 

Diana  dug  her  heels  into  the  soft  ground  with  a  little 
wriggle  of  content;  here  she  would  be  free  from  anything 
that  could  mar  her  perfect  enjoyment  of  life  as  it  ap- 
peared  to  her.  Here  there  was  nothing  to  spoil  her 
pleasure.  Her  head  had  drooped  during  her  thoughts, 
and  for  the  last  few  minutes  her  eyes  had  been  fixed  ont 
the  dusty  tips  of  her  riding-boots.  But  she  raised  them 
now  and  looked  up  with  a  great  content  in  them.  It  was 
the  happiest  day  of  her  life.  She  had  forgotten  the 
quarrel  with  Aubrey.  She  had  put  from  her  the  chain 
of  ideas  suggested  by  the  passing  caravan.  There  was 
nothing  discordant  to  disturb  the  perfect  harmony  of  her. 
mind. 

A  shade  beside  her  made  her  turn  her  head.  Mustafa 
Ali  salaamed  obsequiously.  "  It  is  time  to  start,  Mad- 
emoiselle." 


THE  SHEIK 


4i 


Diana  looked  up  in  surprise  and  then  back  over  her 
shoulder  at  the  escort.  The  men  were  already  mounted. 
The  smile  faded  from  her  eyes.  Mustafa  AH  was  guide, 
but  she  was  head  of  this  expedition ;  if  her  guide  had  not 
realised  this  he  would  have  to  do  so  now.  She  glanced 
at  the  watch  on  her  wrist. 

"  There  is  plenty  of  time,"  she  said  coolly. 

Mustafa  Ali  salaamed  again.  "Tt  is  a  long  ride  to 
reach  the  oasis  where  we  must  camp  to-night,"  he  in- 
sisted hurriedly. 

Diana  crossed  one  brown  boot  over  the  other,  and 
scooping  up  some  sand  in  the  palm  of  her  hand  trickled 
it  through  her  fingers  slowly.  "  Then  we  can  ride  faster," 
she  replied  quietly,  looking  at  the  shining  particles  glis- 
tening in  the  sun. 

Mustafa  Ali  made  a  movement  of  impatience  and  per- 
sisted doggedly.    "  Mademoiselle  would  do  well  to  start." 

Diana  looked  up  swiftly  with  angry  eyes.  Under  the 
man's  suave  manner  and  simple  words  a  peremptory  tone 
had  crept  into  his  voice.  She  sat  quite  still,  her  ringers 
raking  the  warm  sand,  and  under  her  haughty  stare  the 
guide's  eyes  wavered  and  turned  away.  "  W e  will  start 
when  I  choose,  Mustafa  Ali,"  she  said  brusquely.  "  You 
may  give  orders  to  your  men,  but  you  will  take  your 
orders  from  me.  I  will  tell  you  when  I  am  ready.  You 
may  go." 

Still  he  hesitated,  swaying  irresolutely  backwards  and 
forwards  on  his  heels. 

Diana  snapped  her  fingers  over  her  shoulder,  a  trick  she 
had  learned  from  a  French  officer  in  Biskra.  "  I  said 
go ! "  she  repeated  sharply.  She  took  no  notice  of  his 
going  and  did  not  look  back  to  see  what  orders  he  gave 


42 


THE  SHEIK 


the  men.    She  glanced  at  her  watch  again.    Perhaps  it 
was  growing  late,  perhaps  the  camp  was  a  longer  ride 
than  she  had  thought;  but  Mustafa  Ali  must  learn  his 
lesson  if  they  rode  till  midnight  to  reach  the  oasis.  She 
pushed  her  obstinate  chin  out  further  and  then  smiled' 
again  suddenly.    She  hoped  that  the  night  would  fall* 
before  they  reached  their  destination.    There  had  been, 
one  or  two  moonlight  riding  picnics  out  from  Biskra,  andj 
the  glamour  of  the  desert  nights  had  gone  to  Diana's  head. 
This  riding  into  the  unknown  away  from  the  noisy,  chat-' 
tering  crowd  who  had  spoiled  the  perfect  stillness  of  the 
night  would  be  infinitely  more  perfect.    She  gave  a  little 
sigh  of  regret  as  she  thought  of  it.    It  was  not  really  ; 
practical.    Though  she  would  wait  nearly  another  hour, 
to  allow  the  fact  of  her  authority  to  sink  into  Mustafa 
Ali's  brain  she  would  have  to  hasten  afterwards  to  arrives 
at  the  camp  before  darkness  set  in.    The  men  were  un- 
used to  her  ways  and  she  to  theirs.    She  would  not  have 
Stephens'  help  to-night;  she  would  have  to  depend  on  I 
herself  to  order  everything  as  she  wished  it,  and  it  was  I 
easier  done  in  daylight.    One  hour  would  not  make  much 
difference.    The  horses  had  more  in  them  than  had  been 
taken  out  of  them  this  morning;  they  could  be  pushed! 
along  a  bit  faster  with  no  harm  happening  to  them.  She 
eyed  her  watch  from  time  to  time  with  a  grin  of  amuse 
ment,  but  suppressed  the  temptation  to  look  and  see  ho 
Mustafa  Ali  was  taking  it,  for  her  action  might  be  see 
and  misconstrued. 

When  the  time  she  had  set  herself  was  up  she  ros 
and  walked  slowly  towards  the  group  of  Arabs.  Th 
guide's  face  was  sullen,  but  she  took  no  notice,  and,  whe 
they  started,  motioned  him  to  her  side  again  with 


THE  SHEIK 


43 


reference  to  Biskra  that  provoked  a  flow  of  words.  It 
was  the  last  place  she  wanted  to  hear  of,  but  it  was  one 
of  which  he  spoke  the  readiest,  and  she  knew  it  was  not 
wise  to  allow  him  to  remain  silent  to  sulk.  His  ill-temper 
would  evaporate  with  the  sound  of  his  own  voice.  She 
rode  forward  steadily,  silent  herself,  busy  with  her  own 
thoughts,  heedless  of  the  voice  beside  her,  and  uncon- 
scious of  the  fact  when  it  became  silent. 

She  had  been  quite  right  about  the  capabilities  of  the 
horses.  They  responded  without  any  apparent  effort  to 
the  further  demand  made  of  them.  The  one  in  particular 
that  Diana  was  riding  moved  in  a  swift,  easy  gallop  that 
was  the  perfection  of  motion. 

They  had  been  riding  for  some  hours  when  they  came 
to  the  first  oasis  that  had  been  sighted  since  leaving  the 
one  where  the  midday  halt  was  made.  Diana  pulled  up 
her  horse  to  look  at  it,  for  it  was  unusually  beautiful  in 
the  luxuriousness  and  arrangement  of  its  group  of  palms 
and  leafy  bushes.  Some  pigeons  were  cooing  softly, 
hidden  from  sight  amongst  the  trees,  with  a  plaintive 
melancholy  that  somehow  seemed  in  keeping  with  the  de- 
serted spot.  Beside  the  well,  forming  a  triangle,  stood 
what  had  been  three  particularly  fine  palm  trees,  but  the 
tops  had  been  broken  off  about  twenty  feet  up  from  the 
ground,  and  the  mutilated  trunks  reared  themselves  bare 
and  desolate-looking.  Diana  took  off  her  heavy  helmet 
and  tossed  it  to  the  man  behind  her,  and  sat  looking  at 
the  oasis,  while  the  faint  breeze  that  had  sprung  up  stirred 
her  thick,  short  hair,  and  cooled  her  hot  head.  The  sad 
notes  of  the  pigeons  and  the  broken  palms,  that  with  their 
unusualness  vaguely  suggested  a  tragedy,  lent  an  air  of 
mystery  to  the  place  that  pleased  her. 

I 


44 


THE  SHEIK 


She  turned  eagerly  to  Mustafa  AH.  "  Why  did  you  not  I 
arrange  for  the  camp  to  be  here?  It  would  have  been  a; 
long  enough  ride." 

The  man  fidgeted  in  his  saddle,  fingering  his  beard:! 
uneasily,  his  eyes  wandering  past  Diana's  and  looking  ait 
the  broken  trees.  "  No  man  rests  here,  Mademoiselle. 
It  is  the  place  of  devils.  The  curse  of  Allah  is  upon  it,v!; 
he  muttered,  touching  his  horse  with  his  heel,  and  making  I 
it  sidle  restlessly  —  an  obvious  hint  that  Diana  ignored.  ,j 

"  I  like  it,"  she  persisted  obstinately. 

He  made  a  quick  gesture  with  his  fingers.  "  It  is  ac-  I 
cursed.  Death  lurks  beside  those  broken  palm  trees,"  he>: 
said,  looking  at  her  curiously. 

She  jerked  her  head  with  a  sudden  smile.  "For  you, J 
perhaps,  but  not  for  me.  Allah's  curse  rests  only  uponi 
those  who  fear  it.  But  since  you  are  afraid,  Mustafa  All,:  j 
let  us  go  on."  She  gave  a  little  light  laugh,  and  Mustafa  J 
Ali  kicked  his  horse  savagely  as  he  followed. 

The  distance  before  her  spread  out  cleanly  with  the! 
sharp  distinctness  that  precedes  the  setting  sun.  She  rode  I 
on  until  she  began  to  wonder  if  it  would  indeed  be  night- 
fall before  she  reached  her  destination.  They  had  ridden;1 
longer  and  faster  than  had  ever  been  intended.  It  seemed  | 
odd  that  they  had  not  overtaken  the  baggage  camels.  She 
looked  at  her  watch  with  a  frown.  "  Where  is  youi 
caravan,  Mustafa  Ali?  "  she  called.  "  I  see  no  sign  of  am 
oasis,  and  the  darkness  will  come." 

"If  Mademoiselle  had  started  earlier — "  he  said  sul-lf 
lenly. 

"  If  I  had  started  earlier  it  would  still  have  been  toe | 
far.  To-morrow  we  will  arrange  it  otherwise,"  she  said 
firmly. 


THE  SHEIK 


45 


"  To-morrow  — "  he  growled  indistinctly. 

Diana  looked  at  him  keenly.  "  What  did  you  say  ?  " 
she  asked  haughtily. 

His  hand  went  to  his  forehead  mechanically.  "To- 
morrow is  with  Allah ! "  he  murmured  with  unctuous 
piety. 

A  retort  trembled  on  Diana's  lips,  but  her  attention 
was  distracted  from  her  annoying  guide  to  a  collection  of 
Dlack  specks  far  off  across  the  desert.  They  were  too 
far  away  for  her  to  see  clearly,  but  she  pointed  to  them, 
peering  at  them  intently.  "  See !  "  she  cried.  "  Is  that 
:he  caravan  ?  " 

"  As  Allah  wills !  "  he  replied  more  piously  than  before, 
md  Diana  wished,  with  a  sudden  feeling  of  irritation, 
ihat  he  would  stop  relegating  his  responsibilities  to  the 
Deity  and  take  a  little  more  active  personal  interest  in 
bis  missing  camel  train. 

The  black  specks  were  moving  fast  across  the  level 
plain.  Very  soon  Diana  saw  that  it  was  not  the  slow, 
eisurely  camels  that  they  were  overtaking,  but  a  band 
3f  mounted  men  who  were  moving  swiftly  towards  them. 
[They  had  seen  nobody  since  the  traders'  caravan  had 
Passed  them  in  the  morning.  For  Diana  the  Arabs  that 
pyere  approaching  were  even  more  interesting  than  the 
paravan  had  been.  She  had  seen  plenty  of  caravans  ar- 
piving  and  departing  from  Biskra,  but,  though  she  had 
Seen  small  parties  of  tribesmen  constantly  in  the  vicinity 
|>f  the  town,  she  had  never  seen  so  large  a  body  of  mounted 
faen  before,  nor  had  she  seen  them  as  they  were  here, 
pne  with  the  wild  picturesqueness  of  their  surroundings. 
!t  was  impossible  to  count  how  many  there  were,  for  they 
vere  riding  in  close  formation,  the  wind  filling  their  great 

I 


46 


THE  SHEIK 


white  cloaks,  making  each  man  look  gigantic.  Diana's*!; 
interest  flamed  up  excitedly.  It  was  like  passing  another  I 
ship  upon  a  hitherto  empty  sea.  They  seemed  to  add  a  I 
desired  touch  to  the  grim  loneliness  of  the  scene  that  had  I 
begun  to  be  a  little  awe-inspiring.  Perhaps  she  was  hun- |j 
gry,  perhaps  she  was  tired,  or  perhaps  she  was  only  an-  jj 
noyed  by  the  bad  arrangements  of  her  guide,  but  before  I 
the  advent  of  the  mounted  Arabs  Diana  had  been  con*l 
scious  of  a  feeling  of  oppression,  as  if  the  silent  desola-?! 
tion  of  the  desert  was  weighing  heavily  upon  her,  but  the i,  J 
body  of  swiftly  moving  men  and  horses  had  changed  the  1 
aspect  utterly.  An  atmosphere  of  life  and  purpose  seemed  I 
to  have  taken  the  place  of  the  quiet  stagnation  that  had  I 
been  before  their  coming. 

The  distance  between  the  two  parties  decreased  rapidly.  | 
Diana,  intent  on  the  quickly  advancing  horsemen,  spurred I 
ahead  of  her  guide  with  sparkling  eyes.    They  were  near  1 
enough  now  to  see  that  the  horses  were  beautiful  credfl 
tures  and  that  each  man  rode  magnificently.    They  were 
armed  too,  their  rifles  being  held  in  front  of  them,  note 
slung  on  their  backs  as  she  had  seen  in  Biskra.  They 
passed  quite  close  to  her,  only  a  few  yards  away  —  a 
solid  square,  the  orderly  ranks  suggesting  training  and  I 
discipline  that  she  had  not  looked  for.    Not  a  head  turned  I 
in  her  direction  as  they  went  by  and  the  pace  was  not 
slackened.    Fretted  by  the  proximity  of  the  galloping  ; 
horses,  her  own  horse  reared  impatiently,  but  Diana  pulled  I 
him  in,  turning  in  her  saddle  to  watch  the  Arabs  pass,  her  I 
breath  coming  quick  with  excitement. 

u  What  are  they?  "  she  called  out  to  Mustafa  Ali,  who  i 
had  dropped  some  way  behind  her.  But  he,  too,  was 
looking  back  at  the  horsemen,  and  did  not  seem  to  hear' 

J 


THE  SHEIK 


47 


her  question.  Her  escort  had  lagged  still  f  arther  behind 
her  guide  and  were  some  distance  away.  Diana  watched 
the  rapidly  moving,  compact  square  eagerly  with  appre- 
ciatory  eyes  —  it  was  a  beautiful  sight.  Then  she  gave 
a  little  gasp.  The  galloping  horses  had  drawn  level  with 
the  last  stragglers  of  her  own  party,  and  just  beyond  they 
stopped  suddenly.  Diana  would  not  have  believed  it 
possible  that  they  could  have  stopped  so  suddenly  and  in 
such  close  formation  while  travelling  at  such  a  pace.  The 
tremendous  strain  on  the  bridles  flung  the  horses  far  back 
on  their  haunches.  But  there  was  no  time  to  dwell  on  the 
wonderful  horsemanship  or  training  of  the  men.  Events 
moved  too  rapidly.  The  solid  square  split  up  and  length- 
ened out  into  a  long  line  of  two  men  riding  abreast. 
Wheeling  behind  the  last  of  Mustafa's  men  they  came 
back  even  faster  than  they  had  passed,  and  circled  widely 
round  Diana  and  her  attendants.  Bewildered  by  this 
manoeuvre  she  watched  them  with  a  puzzled  frown,  striv- 
ing to  soothe  her  horse,  who  was  nearly  frantic  with 
excitement.  Twice  they  galloped  round  her  little  band, 
their  long  cloaks  fluttering,  their  rifles  tossing  in  their 
hands.  Diana  was  growing  impatient.  It  was  very  fine 
to  watch,  but  time  and  the  light  were  both  going.  She 
would  have  been  glad  if  the  demonstration  had  occurred 
earlier  in  the  day,  when  there  would  have  been  more  time 
to  enjoy  it.  She  turned  again  to  Mustafa  Ali  to  suggest 
that  they  had  better  try  to  move  on,  but  he  had  gone 
further  from  her,  back  towards  his  own.  She  wrestled 
with  her  nervous  mount,  trying  to  turn  him  to  join  her 
guide,  when  a  sudden  burst  of  rifle  shots  made  her  start 
and  her  horse  bound  violently.  Then  she  laughed.  That 
would  be  the  end  of  the  demonstration,  a  parting  salute, 


48  THE  SHEIK 


the  decharge  de  mousqueterie  beloved  of  the  Arab.  She 
turned  her  head  from  her  refractory  horse  to  look  at  them 
ride  off,  and  the  laugh  died  away  on  her  lips.  It  was  not 
a  farewell  salute.  The  rifles  that  the  Arabs  were  firing, 
were  not  pointing  up  into  the  heavens,  but  aiming  straight 
at  her  and  her  escort.  And  as  she  stared  with  suddenly; 
startled  eyes,  unable  to  do  anything  with  her  plunging 
horse,  Mustafa  Ali's  men  were  blotted  out  from  her  sight, 
cut  off  by  a  band  of  Arabs  who  rode  between  her  and,J 
them.  Mustafa  Ali  himself  was  lying  forward  on  the 
neck  of  his  horse,  who  was  standing  quiet  amidst  the  gen* 
eral  confusion.  Then  there  came  another  volley,  and  the 
guide  slid  slowly  out  of  his  saddle  on  to  the  ground,  and 
at  the  same  time  Diana's  horse  went  off  with  a  wild  leap 
that  nearly  unseated  her. 

Until  they  started  shooting  the  thought  that  the  Arabs 
could  be  hostile  had  not  crossed  her  mind.  She  imagined 
that  they  were  merely  showing  off  with  the  childish  love 
of  display  which  she  knew  was  characteristic.  The 
French  authorities  had  been  right  after  all.  Diana's  first 
feeling  was  one  of  contempt  for  an  administration  that 
made  possible  such  an  attempt  so  near  civilisation.  Herl 
second  a  fleeting  amusement  at  the  thought  of  how  Aubrey 
would  jeer.  But  her  amusement  passed  as  the  real  seri- 
ousness of  the  attack  came  home  to  her.  For  the  first 
time  it  occurred  to  her  that  her  guide's  descent  from  his 
saddle  was  due  to  a  wound  and  not  to  the  fear  that  she 
had  at  first  disgustedly  attributed  to  him.  But  nobody  \ 
had  seemed  to  put  up  any  kind  of  a  fight,  she  thought  t 
wrath  fully.  She  tugged  angrily  at  her  horse's  mouth, 
but  the  bit  was  between  his  teeth  and  he  tore  on  frai 
tically.    Her  own  position  made  her  furious.    Her  guid< 


THE  SHEIK 


49 


was  wounded,  his  men  surrounded,  and  she  was  ignomin- 
iously  being  run  away  with  by  a  bolting  horse.  If  she 
could  only  turn  the  wretched  animal  It  would  only 
be  a  question  of  ransom,  of  that  she  was  positive.  She 
must  get  back  somehow  to  the  others  and  arrange  terms. 
It  was  an  annoyance,  of  course,  but  after  all  it  added  a 
certain  piquancy  to  her  trip,  it  would  be  an  experience. 
It  was  only  a  "  hold-up."  She  did  not  suppose  the  Arabs 
had  even  really  meant  to  hurt  any  one,  but  they  were 
excited  and  some  one's  shot,  aimed  wide,  had  found  an 
unexpected  billet.  It  could  only  be  that.  It  was  too  near 
Biskra  for  any  real  danger,  she  argued  with  herself,  still 
straining  on  the  reins.  She  would  not  admit  that  there 
was  any  danger,  though  her  heart  was  beating  in  a  way 
that  it  had  never  done  before.  Then  as  she  hauled  in- 
effectually at  the  bridle  with  all  her  strength  there  came 
from  behind  her  the  sound  of  a  long,  shrill  whistle.  Her 
horse  pricked  up  his  ears  and  she  was  conscious  that  his 
pace  sensib1y  lessened.  Instinctively  she  looked  behind. 
A  solitary  Arab  was  riding  after  her  and  as  she  looked 
she  realised  that  his  horse  was  gaining  on  hers.  The 
thought  drove  every  idea  of  stopping  her  runaway  from 
her  and  made  her  dig  her  spurs  into  him  instead.  There 
was  a  sinister  air  of  deliberation  in  the  way  in  which  the 
Arab  was  following  her ;  he  was  riding  her  down. 

Diana's  mouth  closed  firmly  and  a  new  keenness  came 
into  her  steady  eyes.  It  was  one  thing  to  go  back  volun- 
tarily to  make  terms  with  the  men  who  had  attacked  her 
party ;  it  was  quite  another  thing  to  be  deliberately  chased 
across  the  desert  by  an  Arab  freebooter.  Her  obstinate 
chin  was  almost  square.  Then  the  shadow  of  a  laugh 
nickered  in  her  eyes  and  curved  her  mouth.    New  ex- 


5° 


THE  SHEIK 


periences  were  crowding  in  upon  her  to-day.  She  had 
often  wondered  what  the  feelings  of  a  hunted  creature 
were.  She  seemed  in  a  fair  way  of  finding  out.  She  J 
had  always  stoutly  maintained  that  the  fox  enjoyed  the 
run  as  much  as  the  hounds ;  that  remained  to  be  proved, 
but,  in  any  case,  she  would  give  this  hound  a  run  for 
his  money.  She  could  ride,  and  there  seemed  plenty  yet 
in  the  frightened  animal  under  her.  She  bent  down, 
lying  low  against  his  neck  with  a  little,  reckless  laugh, 
coaxing  him  with  all  her  knowledge  and  spurring  him 
alternately.  But  soon  her  mood  changed.  She  frowned 
anxiously  as  she  looked  at  the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 
It  would  be  dark  very  soon.  She  could  not  go  chasing 
through  the  night  with  this  tiresome  Arab  at  her  heels. 
The  humour  seemed  to  have  died  out  of  the  situation  and 
Diana  began  to  get  angry.  In  the  level  country  that 
surrounded  her  there  were  no  natural  features  that  could 
afford  cover  or  aid  in  any  way ;  there  seemed  nothing  for 
it  but  to  own  herself  defeated  and  pull  up  —  *f  she  could. 
An  idea  of  trying  to  dodge  him  and  of  returning  of  her 
own  free  will  was  dismissed  at  once  as  hopeless.  Shef 
had  seen  enough  in  her  short  glimpse  of  the  Arabs'  tactics 
when  they  had  passed  her  to  know  that  she  was  dealing 
with  a  finished  horseman  on  a  perfectly  trained  horse, 
and  that  her  idea  could  never  succeed.  But,  perversely, 
she  felt  that  to  that  particular  Arab  following  her  she 
would  never  give  in.  She  would  ride  till  she  dropped, 
or  the  horse  did,  before  that. 

The  whistle  came  again,  and  again,  in  spite  of  her  j 
relentless  spurring,  her  horse  checked  his  pace.    A  sudden 
inspiration  came  to  her.    Perhaps  it  was  the  horse  she 
was  riding  that  was  the  cause  of  all  the  trouble.    It  was  I 


THE  SHEIK 


certainly  the  Arab's  whistle  that  had  made  it  moderate 
its  speed;  it  was  responding  clearly  to  a  signal  that  it 
knew.  Her  guide's  reluctance  to  give  any  particulars  of 
his  acquisition  of  the  horse  came  back  to  her.  There  could 
not  be  much  doubt  about  it.  The  animal  had  unques- 
tionably been  stolen,  and  either  belonged  to  or  was  known 
to  the  party  of  Arabs  who  had  met  them. 

The  naivete  that  paraded  a  stolen  horse  through  the 
desert  at  the  risk  of  meeting  its  former  owner  made  her 
smile  in  spite  of  her  annoyance,  but  it  was  not  a  pleasant 
smile,  as  her  thoughts  turned  from  the  horse  to  its  present 
owner.  The  sum  of  Mustafa  Ali's  delinquencies  was 
mounting  up  fast.  But  it  was  his  affair,  not  hers.  In  the 
meantime  she  had  paid  for  the  horse  to  ride  through  the 
desert,  not  to  be  waylaid  by  Arab  bandits.  Her  temper 
was  going  fast. 

She  urged  the  horse  on  with  all  her  power,  but  per- 
ceptibly he  was  slowing  up.  She  flashed  another  back- 
ward look.  The  Arab  was  close  behind  her  —  closer  than 
she  had  been  aware.  She  had  a  momentary  glimpse  of  a 
big  white  figure,  dark  piercing  eyes,  and  white  gleaming 
teeth,  and  passionate  rage  filled  her.  With  no  thought 
of  what  the  consequences  or  retaliation  might  be,  with  no 
thought  at  all  beyond  a  wild  desire  to  rid  herself  of  her 
pursuer,  driven  by  a  sudden  madness  which  seemed  to 
rise  up  in  her  and  which  she  could  not  control,  she 
clutched  her  revolver  and  fired  twice,  full  in  the  face  of 
the  man  who  was  following  her.  He  did  not  even  flinch 
and  a  low  laugh  of  amusement  came  from  him.  And  at 
the  sound  of  his  laugh  Diana's  mouth  parched  suddenly, 
and  a  cold  shiver  rippled  across  her  spine.  A  strange 
feeling  that  she  had  never  experienced  before  went 


52 


THE  SHEIK 


through  her.  She  had  missed  again  as  she  had  missed 
this  morning.  How,  she  did  not  know;  it  was  inexpli- 
cable, but  it  was  a  fact,  and  a  fact  that  left  her  with  a 
feeling  of  powerlessness.  She  dropped  the  useless  re- 
volver, trying  vainly  to  force  her  horse's  pace,  but  inch 
by  inch  the  fiery  chestnut  that  the  Arab  was  riding  crept 
up  nearer  alongside.  She  would  not  turn  to  look  again, 
but  glancing  sideways  she  could  see  its  small,  wicked-  I 
looking  head,  with  flat  laid  ears  and  vicious,  bloodshot 
eyes,  level  with  her  elbow.  For  a  moment  or  two  it  re- 
mained there,  then  with  a  sudden  spurt  the  chestnut 
forged  ahead,  and  as  it  shot  past  it  swerved  close  in 
beside  her,  and  the  man,  rising  in  his  stirrups  and  leaning 
towards  her,  flung  a  pair  of  powerful  arms  around  her, 
and,  with  a  jerk,  swung  her  clear  of  the  saddle  and  on 
to  his  own  horse  in  front  of  him.  His  movement  had 
been  so  quick  she  was  unprepared  and  unable  to  resist. 
For  a  moment  she  was  stunned,  then  her  senses  came 
back  to  her  and  she  struggled  wildly,  but,  stifled  in  the 
thick  folds  of  the  Arab's  robes,  against  which  her  face 
was  crushed,  and  held  in  a  grip  that  seemed  to  be  slowly 
suffocating  her,  her  struggles  were  futile.  The  hard, 
muscular  arm  round  her  hurt  her  acutely,  her  ribs  seemed 
to  be  almost  breaking  under  its  weight  and  strength,  it 
was  nearly  impossible  to  breathe  with  the  close  contact 
of  his  body.  She  was  unusually  strong  for  a  girl,  but 
against  this  steely  strength  that  held  her  she  was  help- 
less. And  for  a  time  the  sense  of  her  helplessness  and 
the  pain  that  any  resistance  to  the  arm  wrapped  round 
her  gave  her  made  her  lie  quiet.  She  felt  the  Arab  check 
his  horse,  felt  the  chestnut  wheel,  spinning  high  on  his 
hind  legs,  and  then  bound  forward  again. 


THE  SHEIK 


53 


Her  feelings  were  indescribable.  She  did  not  know 
what  to  think.  Her  mind  felt  jarred.  She  was  unable 
to  frame  any  thoughts  coherently.  What  had  happened 
was  so  unexpected,  so  preposterous,  that  no  conclusion 
seemed  adequate.  Only  rage  filled  her  —  blind,  passion- 
ate rage  against  the  man  who  had  dared  to  touch  her,  who 
had  dared  to  lay  his  hands  on  her,  and  those  hands  the 
hands  of  a  native.  A  shiver  of  revulsion  ran  through  her. 
She  was  choking  with  fury,  with  anger  and  with  disgust. 
The  ignominy  of  her  plight  hurt  her  pride  badly.  She  had 
been  outridden,  swept  from  her  saddle  as  if  she  were  a 
puppet,  and  compelled  to  bear  the  proximity  of  the  man's 
own  hateful  body  and  the  restraint  of  his  arms.  No  one 
had  ever  dared  to  touch  her  before.  No  one  had  ever 
dared  to  handle  her  as  she  was  being  handled  now.  How 
was  it  going  to  end  ?  Where  were  they  going  ?  With  her 
face  hidden  she  had  lost  all  sense  of  direction.  She  had 
no  idea  to  what  point  the  horse  had  turned  when  he  had 
wheeled  so  suddenly.  He  was  galloping  swiftly  with  con- 
tinual disconcerting  bounds  that  indicated  either  temper 
or  nerves,  but  the  man  riding  him  seemed  in  no  way  dis- 
turbed by  his  horse's  behavior.  She  could  feel  him 
swaying  easily  in  the  saddle,  and  even  the  wildest  leaps 
did  not  cause  any  slackening  of  the  arm  around  her. 

But  by  degrees  as  she  continued  to  lie  still  the  pressure 
on  her  body  was  relieved  slightly,  and  she  was  able  to  turn 
her  head  a  little  towards  the  air  for  which  she  was  almost 
fainting,  but  not  enough  to  enable  her  to  see  what  was 
passing  around  her.  She  drank  in  the  cool  air  eagerly. 
Though  she  could  not  see  she  knew  that  the  night  had 
come,  the  night  that  she  had  hoped  would  fall  before  she 
reached  her  destination,  but  which  now  seemed  horrible, 


54 


THE  SHEIK 


The  fresh  strength  that  the  air  gave  her  fanned  the  cour-  I 
age  that  still  remained  with  her.    Collecting  all  her  force 
she  made  a  sudden  desperate  spring,  trying  to  leap  clear 
of  the  arm  that  now  lay  almost  loosely  about  her,  her  j 
spurred  heels  tearing  the  chestnut's  flank  until  he  reared  I 
perpendicularly,  snorting  and  trembling.    But  with  a  g 
quick  sweep  of  his  long  arm  the  Arab  gathered  her  back  I 
into  his  hold,  still  struggling  fiercely.    His  arms  were  I 
both  round  her;  he  was  controlling  the  maddened  horse 
only  with  the  pressure  of  his  knees. 

"Doucement,  doucement."    She  heard  the  slow,  soft  I 
voice  indistinctly,  for  he  was  pressing  her  head  again 
closely  to  him,  and  she  did  not  know  if  the  words  were  ' 
applied  to  herself  or  to  the  horse.    She  fought  to  lift 
her  head,  to  escape  the  grip  that  held  her,  straining,  striv- 
ing until  he  spoke  again. 

"  Lie  still,  you  little  fool ! "  he  snarled  with  sudden 
vehemence,  and  with  brutal  hands  he  forced  her  to  obey 
him,  until  she  wondered  if  he  would  leave  a  single  bone 
unbroken  in  her  body,  till  further  resistance  was  impossi- 
ble. Gasping  for  breath  she  yielded  to  the  strength  that 
overpowered  her,  and  ceased  to  struggle.  The  man  ,j 
seemed  to  know  intuitively  that  she  was  beaten,  and  turned 
his  undivided  attention  to  his  horse  with  the  same  low 
laugh  of  amusement  that  had  sent  the  strange  feeling 
through  her  when  her  shots  had  missed  him.  It  had 
puzzled  her  then,  but  it  grew  now  with  a  horrible  in- 
tensity, until  she  knew  that  it  was  fear  that  had  come  to 
her  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  —  a  strange  fear  that  she  I 
fought  against  desperately,  but  which  was  gaining  on 
her  with  a  force  that  was  sapping  her  strength  from  her 
and  making  her  head  reel.    She  did  not  faint,  but  her 


THE  SHEIK 


55 


whole  body  seemed  to  grow  nerveless  with  the  sudden 
realisation  of  the  horror  of  her  position. 

After  that  Diana  lost  all  sense  of  time,  as  she  had 
already  lost  all  sense  of  direction.  She  did  not  know  if 
it  was  minutes  or  hours  that  passed  as  they  still  galloped 
swiftly  through  the  night.  She  did  not  know  if  they  were 
alone  or  if  the  band  of  Arabs  to  which  this  man  belonged 
were  riding  with  them,  noiseless  over  the  soft  ground. 
What  had  happened  to  her  guide  and  his  men  ?  Had  they 
been  butchered  and  left  where  they  fell,  or  were  they,  too, 
being  hurried  unwillingly  into  some  obscure  region  of 
the  desert?  But  for  the  moment  the  fate  of  Mustafa 
Ali  and  his  companions  did  not  trouble  her  very  much; 
they  had  not  played  a  very  valiant  part  in  the  shcrt  en- 
counter, and  her  own  situation  swamped  her  mind  to  the 
exclusion  of  everything  else. 

The  sense  of  fear  was  growing  on  her.  She  scorned 
and  derided  it.  She  tried  to  convince  herself  it  did  not 
exist,  but  it  did  exist,  torturing  her  with  its  strangeness 
and  with  the  thoughts  that  it  engendered.  She  had  an- 
ticipated nothing  like  this.  She  had  never  thought  of  a 
contingency  that  would  end  so,  that  would  induce  a  situa- 
tion before  which  her  courage  was  shuddering  into  pieces 
with  the  horror  that  was  opening  up  before  her  —  a 
thing  that  had  always  seemed  a  remote  impossibility  that 
could  never  touch  her,  from  even  the  knowledge  of  which 
her  life  with  Aubrey  had  almost  shielded  her,  but  which 
now  loomed  near  her,  forcing  its  reality  upon  her  till  she 
trembled  and  great  drops  of  moisture  gathered  on  her 
forehead. 

The  Arab  moved  her  position  once,  roughly,  but  she 
was  glad  of  the  change  for  it  freed  her  head  from  the 


THE  SHEIK 


stifling  folds  of  his  robes.  He  did  not  speak  again  —  only 
once  when  the  chestnut  shied  violently  he  muttered  some- 
thing under  his  breath.  But  her  satisfaction  was  short- 
lived. A  few  minutes  afterwards  his  arm  tightened 
round  her  once  more  and  he  twined  a  fold  of  his  long 
cloak  round  her  head,  blinding  her.  And  then  she  under- 
stood. The  galloping  horse  was  pulled  in  with  almost  the 
same  suddenness  that  had  amazed  her  when  she  had  first 
seen  the  Arabs.  She  felt  him  draw  her  close  into  his  arms 
and  slip  down  on  to  the  ground ;  there  were  voices  around 
her  —  confused,  unintelligible;  then  they  died  away  as  she 
felt  him  carry  her  a  few  paces.  He  set  her  down  and 
unwound  the  covering  from  her  face.  The  light  that 
shon(  around  her  seemed  by  contrast  dazzling  with  the 
darkness  that  had  gone  before.  Confused,  she  clasped 
her  hands  over  her  eyes  for  a  moment  and  then  looked 
up  slowly.  She  was  in  a  big,  lofty  tent,  brightly  lit  by 
two  hanging  lamps.  But  she  took  no  heed  of  her  sur- 
roundings; her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  man  who  had 
brought  her  there.  He  had  flung  aside  the  heavy  cloak 
that  enveloped  him  from  head  to  foot  and  was  standing 
before  her,  tall  and  broad-shouldered,  dressed  in  white 
flowing  robes,  a  waistcloih  embroidered  in  black  and  silver 
wound  several  times  about  him,  and  from  the  top  of 
which  showed  a  revolver  that  was  thrust  into  the  folds. 

Diana's  eyes  passed  over  him  slowly  till  they  rested  on 
his  brown,  clean-shaven  face,  surmounted  by  crisp,  close- 
cut  brown  hair.  It  was  the  handsomest  and  cruellest 
face  that  she  had  ever  seen.  Her  gaze  was  drawn  in- 
stinctively to  his.  He  was  looking  at  her  with  fierce 
burning  eyes  that  swept  her  until  she  felt  that  the  boyish 
clothes  that  covered  her  slender  limbs  were  stripped  from 


THE  SHEIK 


57 


|  her,  leaving  the  beautiful  white  body  bare  under  his 
]  passionate  stare. 

She  shrank  back,  quivering,  dragging  the  lapels  of  her 
riding  jacket  together  over  her  breast  with  clutching 
I  hands,  obeying  an  impulse  that  she  hardly  understood. 
"  Who  are  you  ?  "  she  gasped  hoarsely. 
"  I  am  the  Sheik  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan." 
The  name  conveyed  nothing.    She  had  never  heard  it 
before.    She  had  spoken  without  thinking  in  French,  and 
in  French  he  replied  to  her. 

14  Why  have  you  brought  me  here  ?  "  she  asked,  fighting 
down  the  fear  that  was  growing  more  terrible  every  mo- 
ment. 

He  repeated  her  words  with  a  slow  smile.  "  Why  have 
I  brought  you  here?  Bon  Dieu!  Are  you  not  woman 
enough  to  know  ?  " 

She  shrank  back  further,  a  wave  of  colour  rushing  into 
her  face  that  receded  immediately,  leaving  her  whiter 
than  she  had  been  before.  Her  eyes  fell  under  the 
kindling  flame  in  his.  "  I  don't  know  what  you  mean," 
she  whispered  faintly,  with  shaking  lips. 

"  I  think  you  do."  He  laughed  softly,  and  his  laugh 
frightened  her  more  than  anything  he  had  said.  He  came 
towards  her,  and  although  she  was  swaying  on  her  feet, 
desperately  she  tried  to  evade  him,  but  with  a  quick  move- 
ment he  caught  her  in  his  arms. 

Terror,  agonising,  soul-shaking  terror  such  as  she  had 
never  imagined,  took  hold  of  her.  The  flaming  light  of 
desire  burning  in  his  eyes  turned  her  sick  and  faint.  Her 
body  throbbed  with  the  consciousness  of  a  knowledge  that 
appalled  her.  She  understood  his  purpose  with  a  horror 
that  made  each  separate  iieTrve  in  her  system  shrink 


58 


THE  SHEIK 


against  the  understanding  that  had  come  to  her  under  the 
consuming  fire  of  his  ardent  gaze,  and  in  the  fierce  em- 
brace that  was  drawing  her  shaking  limbs  closer  and  closer 
against  the  man's  own  pulsating  body.  She  writhed  in  his 
arms  as  he  crushed  her  to  him  in  a  sudden  access  of 
possessive  passion.  His  head  bent  slowly  down  to  her, 
his  eyes  burned  deeper,  and,  held  immovable,  she  endured 
the  first  kiss  she  had  ever  received.  And  the  touch  of  his 
scorching  lips,  the  clasp  of  his  arms,  the  close  union  with 
his  warm,  strong  body  robbed  her  of  all  strength,  of  all 
power  of  resistance. 

With  a  great  sob  her  eyes  closed  wearily,  the  hot 
mouth  pressed  on  hers  was  like  a  narcotic,  drugging  her 
almost  into  insensibility.  Numbly  she  felt  him  gather 
her  high  up  into  his  arms,  his  lips  still  clinging  closely, 
and  carry  her  across  the  tent  through  curtains  into  an 
adjoining  room.  He  laid  her  down  on  soft  cushions. 
"  Do  not  make  me  wait  too  long,"  he  whispered,  and  left 
her. 

And  the  whispered  words  sent  a  shock  through  her 
that  seemed  to  wrench  her  deadened  nerves  apart,  gal- 
vanising her  into  sudden  strength.  She  sprang  up  with 
wild,  despairing  eyes,  and  hands  clenched  frantically 
across  her  heaving  breast;  then,  with  a  bitter  cry,  she 
dropped  on  to  the  floor,  her  arms  flung  out  across  the 
wide,  luxurious  bed.  It  was  not  true !  It  was  not  true ! 
It  could  not  be  —  this  awful  thing  that  had  happened  to 
her  —  not  to  her,  Diana  Mayo!  It  was  a  dream,  a 
ghastly  dream  that  would  pass  and  free  her  from  this 
agony.  Shuddering,  she  raised  her  head.  The  strange 
room  swam  before  her  eyes.  Oh,  God!  It  was  not  a 
dream.    It  was  real,  it  was  an  actual  fact  from  which 


THE  SHEIK 


59 


there  was  no  escape.    She  was  trapped,  powerless,  de- 
fenceless, and  behind  the  heavy  curtains  near  her  was  the 
man  waiting  to  claim  what  he  had  taken.    Any  moment  he 
might  come ;  the  thought  sent  her  shivering  closer  to  the 
ground  with  limbs  that  trembled  uncontrollably.  Her 
courage,  that  had  faced  dangers  and  even  death  without 
flinching,  broke  down  before  the  horror  that  awaited  her. 
It  was  inevitable;  there  was  no  help  to  be  expected,  no 
mercy  to  be  hoped  for.    She  had  felt  the  crushing 
strength  against  which  she  was  helpless.     She  would 
struggle,  but  it  would  be  useless;  she  would  fight,  but  it 
would  make  no  difference.    Within  the  tent  she  was 
alone,  ready  to  his  hand  like  a  snared  animal ;  without,  the 
place  was  swarming  with  the  man's  followers.    There  was 
nowhere  she  could  turn,  there  was  no  one  she  could  turn 
to.    The  certainty  of  the  accomplishment  of  what  she 
dreaded  crushed  her  with  its  surety.    All  power  of  action 
1   was  gone.    She  could  only  wait  and  suffer  in  the  complete 
moral  collapse  that  overwhelmed  her,  and  that  was  rend- 
ered  greater  by  her  peculiar  temperament.    Her  body 
!  was  aching  with  the  grip  of  his  powerful  arms,  her  mouth 
ij  was  bruised  with  his  savage  kisses.    She  clenched  her 
!  hands  in  anguish.    "  Oh,  God ! "  she  sobbed,  with  scald- 
|!  ing  tears  that  scorched  her  cheeks.    "  Curse  him !  Curse 
|j  him ! " 

And  with  the  words  on  her  lips  he  came,  silent,  noise- 
less, to  her  side.  With  his  hands  on  her  shoulders  he 
forced  her  to  her  feet.  His  eyes  were  fierce,  his  stern 
mouth  parted  in  a  cruel  smile,  his  deep,  slow  voice  half 
angry,  half  impatiently  amused.  "  Must  I  be  valet  as 
well  as  lover  ?  " 


CHAPTER  III 


The  warm  sunshine  was  flooding  the  tent  when  Diana 
awoke  from  the  deep  sleep  of  exhaustion  that  had  been 
almost  insensibility,  awoke  to  immediate  and  complete 
remembrance.  One  quick,  fearful  glance  around  the  big 
room  assured  her  that  she  was  alone.  She  sat  up  slowly, 
her  eyes  shadowy  with  pain,  looking  listlessly  at  the 
luxurious  appointments  of  the  tent.  She  looked  dry- 
eyed,  she  had  no  tears  left.  They  had  all  been  expended 
when  she  had  grovelled  at  his  feet  imploring  the  mercy  he 
had  not  accorded  her.  She  had  fought  until  the  unequal 
struggle  had  left  her  exhausted  and  helpless  in  his  arms, 
until  her  whole  body  was  one  agonised  ache  from  the 
brutal  hands  that  forced  her  to  compliance,  until  her  cour- 
ageous spirit  was  crushed  by  the  realisation  of  her  own 
powerlessness,  and  by  the  strange  fear  that  the  man  him- 
self had  awakened  in  her,  which  had  driven  her  at  last 
moaning  to  her  knees.  And  the  recollection  of  her  abject 
prayers  and  weeping  supplications  filled  her  with  a  burn- 
ing shame.  She  loathed  herself  with  bitter  contempt. 
Her  courage  had  broken  down ;  even  her  pride  had  failed 
her. 

She  wound  her  arms  about  her  knees  and  hid  her  face 
against  them.  "  Coward !  Coward ! "  she  whispered 
fiercely.  Why  had  she  not  scorned  him?  Or  why  had 
she  not  suffered  all  that  he  bad  done  to  her  in  silence? 
It  would  have  pleased  him  less  than  the  frenzied  en- 
treaties that  had  only  provoked  the  soft  laugh  that  made 


THE  SHEIK 


her  shiver  each  time  she  heard  it.  She  shivered  now.  "  I 
thought  I  was  brave,"  she  murmured  brokenly.  "I  am 
only  a  coward,  a  craven." 

She  lifted  her  head  at  last  and  looked  around  her.  The 
room  was  a  curious  mixture  of  Oriental  luxury  and 
European  comfort.  The  lavish  sumptuousness  of  the  fur- 
nishings suggested  subtly  an  unrestrained  indulgence,  the 
whole  atmosphere  was  voluptuous,  and  Diana  shrank  from 
the  impression  it  conveyed  without  exactly  understanding 
the  reason.  There  was  nothing  that  jarred  artistically, 
the  rich  hangings  all  harmonised,  there  were  no  glaring 
incongruities  such  as  she  had  seen  in  native  palaces  in 
India.  And  everything  on  which  her  eyes  rested  drove 
home  relentlessly  the  hideous  fact  of  her  position.  His 
things  were  everywhere.  On  a  low,  brass-topped  table 
by  the  bed  was  the  half-smoked  cigarette  he  had  had 
between  his  lips  when  he  came  to  her.  The  pillow  beside 
I  her  still  bore  the  impress  of  his  head.  She  looked  at  it 
'  with  a  growing  horror  in  her  eyes  until  an  uncontrollable 
shuddering  seized  her  and  she  cowered  down,  smothering 
I  the  cry  that  burst  from  her  in  the  soft  pillows  and  drag- 
ging the  silken  coverings  up  around  her  as  if  their  thin 
shelter  were  a  protection.  She  lived  again  through  every 
moment  of  the  past  night  until  thought  was  unendurable, 
j  until  she  felt  that  she  would  go  mad,  until  at  last,  worn 
out,  she  fell  asleep. 

It  was  midday  when  she  awoke  again.    This  time  she 
J  was  not  alone.    A  young  Arab  girl  was  sitting  on  the 
I  rug  beside  her  looking  at  her  with  soft  brown  eyes  of 
I  absorbed  interest   As  Diana  sat  up  she  rose  to  her  feet, 
salaaming,  with  a  timid  smile. 

"  I  am  Zilah,  to  wait  on  Madame,"  she  said  shyly  in 


THE  SHEIK 


stumbling  French,  holding  out  a  wrap  that  Diana  recog- 
nised with  wonder  as  her  own.  She  looked  behind  her. 
Her  suit-cases  were  lying  near  her,  open,  partially  un- 
packed. The  missing  baggage  camels  had  been  captured 
first,  then.  She  was  at  least  to  be  allowed  the  use  of  her 
own  belongings.  A  gleam  of  anger  shot  into  her  tired 
eyes  and  she  swung  round  with  a  sharp  question ;  but  the 
Arab  girl  shook  her  head  uncomprehendingly,  drawing 
back  with  frightened  eyes;  and  to  all  further  questions 
she  remained  silent,  with  down-drooping  mouth  like  a 
scared  child.  She  was  little  more.  She  evidently  only 
half  understood  what  was  said  to  her  and  could  give  no 
answer  to  what  she  did  understand,  and  turned  away  with 
obvious  relief  when  Diana  stopped  speaking.  She  went 
across  the  tent  and  pulled  aside  a  curtain  leading  into  a 
bathroom  that  was  as  big  and  far  better  equipped  than 
the  one  that  Diana  had  had  in  the  Indian  tent,  and  which, 
up  to  now,  had  seemed  the  last  word  in  comfort  and 
luxury.  Though  the  girl's  knowledge  of  French  was  lim- 
ited her  hands  were  deft  enough,  but  her  ignorance  of  the 
intricacies  of  a  European  woman's  toilette  was  very  ap- 
parent, and  constantly  provoked  in  her  a  girlish  giggle  that 
changed  hurriedly  to  a  startled  gravity  when  Diana  looked 
at  her.  Laughter  was  very  far  from  Diana,  but  she 
could  not  help  smiling  now  and  again  at  her  funny  mis- 
takes. 

The  girl,  with  her  big,  wondering  eyes,  her  shy,  hesi- 
tating French  and  childish  curiosity,  in  some  indefinable 
way  gave  back  to  Diana  the  self-control  that  had  slipped 
from  her.  Her  pride  reasserted  itself,  rigidly  suppres- 
sing any  sign  of  feeling  or  emotion  that  could  be  noticed 
by  the  gentle,  inquisitive  eyes  fixed  on  her. 


THE  SHEIK  6^ 

The  hot  bath  that  took  the  soreness  out  of  her  limbs 
brought  back  the  colour  to  her  face  and  lips.  She  even 
tubbed  her  head,  rubbing  the  glistening  curls  dry  with 
fierce  vigour,  striving  to  rid  herself  of  the  contamination 
that  seemed  to  have  saturated  her.  Yet  the  robes  against 
which  they  had  been  pressed  were  spotless,  and  the  hands 
that  had  held  her  were  fastidiously  clean,  even  to  the  well- 
kept  nails. 

She  came  back  into  the  bedroom  to  find  Zilah  on  her 
knees  poring  over  her  scanty  but  diverse  wardrobe  with 
bewilderment,  fingering  the  evening  dresses  with  shy 
hands,  and  finally  submitting  tentatively  to  Diana  the 
tweed  skirt  that  had  been  packed  with  her  other  things 
for  the  journey  when  Oran  should  be  reached.  But  Di- 
ana put  it  aside,  and  pointed  to  the  riding  clothes  she  had 
worn  the  previous  day.  In  them  she  felt  more  able  to 
face  what  might  be  before  her,  the  associations  connected 
with  them  seemed  to  give  her  moral  strength,  in  them  she 
would  feel  herself  again  —  Diana  the  boy,  not  the  shiver- 
ing piece  of  womanhood  that  had  been  born  with  tears 
and  agony  last  night.  She  bit  her  lip  as  she  stamped 
her  foot  down  into  the  long  boot. 

She  sent  the  girl  away  at  last,  and  noticed  that  she 
avoided  passing  into  the  adjoining  room,  but  vanished 
instead  through  the  curtains  leading  into  the  bathroom. 
Did  that  mean  that  in  the  outer  room  the  Arab  Sheik  was 
waiting?  The  thought  banished  the  self-control  she  had 
regained  and  sent  her  weakly  on  to  the  side  of  the  bed 
with  her  face  hidden  in  her  hands.  Was  he  there  ?  Her 
questions  to  the  little  waiting-girl  had  only  been  concerned 
with  the  whereabouts  of  the  camp  to  which  she  had  been 
brought  and  also  of  the  fate  of  the  caravan ;  of  the  man 


64 


THE  SHEIK 


himself  she  had  not  been  able  to  bring  herself  to  speak. 
The  strange  fear  that  he  had  inspired  in  her  filled  her 
with  rage  and  humiliation.  The  thought  of  seeing  him 
again  brought  a  shame  that  was  unspeakable.  But  she 
conquered  the  agitation  that  threatened  to  grow  beyond 
restraint,  pride  helping  her  again.  It  was  better  to  face 
the  inevitable  of  her  own  free  will  than  be  fetched  whether 
she  would  or  not.  For  she  knew  now  the  strength  of 
the  man  who  had  abducted  her,  knew  that  physically  she 
was  helpless  against  him.  She  raised  her  head  and  lis- 
tened. It  was  very  silent  in  the  next  room.  Perhaps  she 
was  tc  be  allowed  a  further  respite.  She  jerked  her  head 
impatiently  at  her  own  hesitation.  "  Coward !  "  she  whis- 
pered again  contemptuously,  and  flung  across  the  room. 
But  at  the  curtains  she  halted  for  a  moment,  then  with  set 
face  drew  them  aside  and  went  through. 

The  respite  had  been  granted,  the  room  appeared  to  be 
empty.  But  as  she  crossed  the  thick  rugs  her  heart  leapt 
suddenly  into  her  throat,  for  she  became  aware  of  a  man 
standing  in  the  open  doorway.  His  back  was  turned  to 
her,  but  in  a  moment  she  saw  that  the  short,  slim  figure 
in  white  linen  European  clothes  bore  no  resemblance  to 
the  tall  Arab  she  had  expected  to  see.  She  thought  her 
footsteps  were  noiseless,  but  he  turned  with  a  little  quick 
bow.  A  typical  Frenchman  with  narrow,  alert,  clean- 
shaven face,  sleek  black  hair  and  dark  restless  eyes.  His 
legs  were  slightly  bowed  and  he  stooped  a  little;  his' 
appearance  was  that  of  a  jockey  with  the  manners  of  a 
well-trained  servant.  Diana  coloured  hotly  under  his 
glance,  but  his  eyes  were  lowered  instantly. 

"  Madame  is  doubtless  ready  for  lunch.'*  He  spoke 
rapidly,  but  his  voice  was  low  and  pleasant.    His  move- 


THE  SHEIK 


65 


ments  were  as  quick  and  as  quiet  as  his  voice,  and  in  a 
dream  Diana  found  herself  in  a  few  moments  before  a 
lunch  that  was  perfectly  cooked  and  daintily  served.  The 
man  hovered  about  her  solicitously,  attending  to  her 
wants  with  dexterous  hands  and  watchful  eyes  that  an- 
ticipated every  need.  She  was  bewildered,  faint  from 
want  of  food,  everything  seemed  unreal.  For  the  mo- 
ment she  could  just  sit  still  and  be  waited  on  by  the  soft- 
footed,  soft-spoken  manservant  who  seemed  such  a  curi- 
ous adjunct  to  the  household  of  an  Arab  chief. 

u  Monseigneur  begs  that  you  will  excuse  him  until  this 
evening.  He  will  return  in  time  for  dinner,"  he  mur- 
mured as  he  handed  her  a  cous-cous. 

Diana  looked  up  blankly.    "  Monseigneur?  " 

"  My  master.    The  Sheik." 

She  flushed  scarlet  and  her  face  hardened.  Hypocrit- 
ical, Oriental  beast  who  "  begged  to  be  excused  " !  She 
refused  the  last  dish  curtly,  and  as  the  servant  carried  it 
away  she  propped  her  elbows  on  the  table  and  rested  her 
aching  head  on  her  hands.  A  headache  was  among  the 
new  experiences  that  had  overwhelmed  her  since  the  day 
before.  Suffering  in  any  form  was  new  to  her,  and  her 
hatred  of  the  man  who  had  made  her  sutler  grew  with 
every  breath  she  drew. 

The  Frenchman  came  back  with  coffee  and  cigarettes. 
He  held  a  match  for  her,  coaxing  the  reluctant  name  with 
patience  that  denoted  long  experience  with  inferior  sul- 
phur. 

"  Monseigneur  dines  at  eight.  At  what  hour  will 
Madame  have  tea  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  cleared  away  and 
folded  up  the  table. 

Diana  choked  back  the  sarcastic  retort  that  sprang  to 


66 


THE  SHEIK 


her  lips.  The  man's  quiet,  deferential  manner,  that  re- 
fused to  see  anything  extraordinary  in  her  presence  in  his 
master's  camp,  was  almost  harder  to  bear  than  flagrant 
impertinence  would  have  been.  That  she  could  have 
dealt  with ;  this  left  her  tingling  with  a  feeling  of  impot- 
ence, as  if  a  net  were  gradually  closing  round  her  in 
whose  entangling  meshes  her  vaunted  liberty  was  not  only 
threatened,  but  which  seemed  destined  even  to  stifle  her 
very  existence.  She  pulled  her  racing  thoughts  up  with  a 
jerk.  She  must  not  think  if  she  was  going  to  keep  any 
hold  over  herself  at  all.  She  gave  him  an  answer  in- 
differently and  turned  her  back  on  him.  When  she  looked 
again  he  was  gone,  and  she  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief.  She 
had  chafed  under  his  watchful  eyes  until  the  feeling  of 
restraint  had  grown  unbearable. 

She  breathed  more  freely  now  that  he  was  gone,  fling- 
ing up  her  head  and  jerking  her  shoulders  back  with  an 
angry  determination  to  conquer  the  fear  that  made  her 
ashamed.  Natural  curiosity  had  been  struggling  with 
her  other  emotions,  and  she  gave  way  to  it  now  to  try 
and  turn  the  channel  of  her  thoughts  from  the  fixed  direc- 
tion in  which  they  tended,  and  wandered  round  the  big 
room.  The  night  before  she  had  taken  in  nothing  of  her 
surroundings,  her  eyes  had  been  held  only  by  the  man  who 
had  dominated  everything.  Here,  also,  were  the  same 
luxurious  appointments  as  in  the  sleeping-room.  She  had 
knowledge  enough  to  appreciate  that  the  rugs  and  hang- 
ings were  exquisite,  the  former  were  Persian  and  the 
latter  of  a  thick  black  material,  heavily  embroidered  in 
silver.  The  main  feature  of  the  room  was  a  big  black 
divan  heaped  with  huge  cushions  covered  with  dull  black 
silk.    Beside  the  divan,  spread  over  the  Persian  rugs, 


THE  SHEIK 


67 


were  two  unusually  large  black  bearskins,  the  mounted 
heads  converging.  At  one  end  of  the  tent  was  a  small 
doorway,  a  little  portable  writing-table.  There  were  one 
or  two  Moorish  stools  heaped  with  a  motley  collection  of 
ivories  and  gold  and  silver  cigarette  cases  and  knick- 
knacks,  and  against  the  partition  that  separated  the  two 
rooms  stood  a  quaintly  carved  old  wooden  chest.  Though 
the  furniture  was  scanty  and  made  the  tent  seem  even 
more  spacious  than  it  really  was,  the  whole  room  had  an 
air  of  barbaric  splendour.  The  somber  hangings  gleam- 
ing with  thick  silver  threads  seemed  to  Diana  like  a 
studied  theatrical  effect,  a  setting  against  which  the  Arab's 
own  white  robes  should  contrast  more  vividly;  she  re- 
membered the  black  and  silver  waistcloth  she  had  seen 
swathed  round  him,  with  curling  scornful  lip.  There 
was  a  strain  of  vanity  in  all  natives,  she  generalised  con- 
temptuously. Doubtless  it  pleased  this  native's  conceit 
to  carry  out  the  colour  scheme  of  his  tent  even  in  his 
clothes,  and  pose  among  the  sable  cushions  of  the  luxuri- 
ous divan  to  the  admiration  of  his  retainers.  She  made  a 
little  exclamation  of  disgust,  and  turned  from  the  soft 
seductiveness  of  the  big  couch  with  disdain. 

She  crossed  the  tent  to  the  little  bookcase  and  knelt 
beside  it  curiously.  What  did  a  Francophile-Arab  read? 
Novels,  probably,  that  would  harmonise  with  the  atmos- 
phere that  she  dimly  sensed  in  her  surroundings.  But  it 
was  not  novels  that  filled  the  bookcase.  They  were  books 
of  sport  and  travel  with  several  volumes  on  veterinary 
surgery.  They  were  all  in  French,  and  had  all  been  fre- 
quently handled,  many  of  them  had  pencilled  notes  in  the 
margins  written  in  Arabic.  One  shelf  was  filled  entirely 
with  the  works  of  one  man,  a  certain  Vicomte  Raoul  de 


68 


THE  SHEIK 


Saint  Hubert.  With  the  exception  of  one  novel,  which 
Diana  only  glanced  at  hastily,  they  were  all  books  of 
travel.  From  the  few  scribbled  words  in  the  front  of 
each  Diana  could  see  that  they  had  all  been  sent  to  the 
Arab  by  the  author  himself  —  one  even  was  dedicated  to 
"  My  friend,  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan,  Sheik  of  the  Desert." 
She  put  the  books  back  with  a  puzzled  frown.  She 
wished,  with  a  feeling  that  she  could  not  fathom,  that  they 
had  been  rather  what  she  had  imagined.  The  evidence  of 
education  and  unlooked-for  tastes  in  the  man  they  be- 
longed to  troubled  her.  It  was  an  unexpected  glimpse 
into  the  personality  of  the  Arab  that  had  captured  her  was 
vaguely  disquieting,  for  it  suggested  possibilities  that 
would  not  have  existed  in  a  raw  native,  or  one  only  super- 
ficially coated  with  a  veneer  of  civilisation.  He  seemed 
to  become  infinitely  more  sinister,  infinitely  more  horrible. 
She  looked  at  her  watch  with  sudden  apprehension.  The 
day  was  wearing  away  quickly.  Soon  he  would  come. 
Her  breath  came  quick  and  short  and  the  tears  welled  up 
in  her  eyes. 

"  I  mustn't !  I  mustn't !  "  she  whispered  in  a  kind  of 
desperation.  "  If  I  cry  again  I  shall  go  mad."  She 
forced  them  back,  and  crossing  to  the  big  black  divan 
that  she  had  scorned  before  dropped  down  among  the 
soft  cushions.  She  was  so  tired,  and  her  head  throbbed 
persistently. 

She  was  asleep  when  the  servant  brought  tea,  but  she 
started  up  as  he  put  the  tray  on  a  stool  beside  her. 

"  It  is  Madame's  own  tea.  If  she  will  be  good  enough 
to  say  if  it  is  made  to  her  taste,"  he  said  anxiously,  as  if 
his  whole  happiness  was  contained  in  the  tiny  teapot  at 
which  he  was  frowning  deprecatingly. 


THE  SHEIK 


69 


His  assiduity  jarred  on  Diana's  new-found  jangling 
nerves.  She  recognised  that  he  was  sincere  in  his  efforts 
to  please  her,  but  just  now  they  only  seemed  an  added 
humiliation.  She  longed  to  shout  "  Go  away ! "  like  an 
angry  schoolboy,  but  she  managed  to  give  him  the  in- 
formation he  wanted,  and  putting  cigarettes  and  matches 
by  her  he  went  out  with  a  little  smile  of  satisfaction.  The 
longing  for  fresh  air  and  the  desire  to  see  what  place  she 
had  been  brought  to  grew  irresistible  as  the  evening  came 
nearer.  She  went  to  the  open  doorway.  A  big  awning 
stretched  before  it,  supported  on  lances.  She  stepped  out 
from  under  its  shade  and  looked  about  her  wonderingly. 
It  was  a  big  oasis  —  bigger  than  any  she  had  seen.  In 
front  of  the  tent  there  was  an  open  space  with  a  thick 
belt  of  palm  trees  beyond.  The  rest  of  the  camp  lay  be- 
hind the  Chief's  tent.  The  place  was  alive  with  men  and 
horses.  There  were,  some  camels  in  the  distance,  but  it 
was  the  horses  that  struck  Diana  principally.  They  were 
everywhere,  some  tethered;  some  wandering  loose,  some 
exercising  in  the  hands  of  grooms.  Mounted  Arabs  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  oasis  crossed  her  view  occasionally. 
There  were  groups  of  men  engaged  on  various  duties  all 
around  her.  Those  who  went  by  near  her  salaamed  as 
they  passed,  but  took  no  further  notice  of  her.  A  strange 
look  came  into  Diana's  eyes.  This  was  the  desert  in- 
deed, the  desert  as  she  had  never  expected  to  see  it,  the 
desert  as  few  could  expect  to  see  it.  But  the  cost !  She 
shuddered,  then  turned  at  a  sudden  noise  near  her.  A 
biting,  screaming  chestnut  fury  was  coming  past  close 
to  the  tent,  takirg  complete  charge  of  the  two  men  who 
clung,  yelling,  to  his  head.  He  was  stripped,  but  Diana 
recognised  him     once.    The  one  brief  view  she  had  had 


70 


THE  SHEIK 


of  his  small,  vicious  head  as  he  shot  past  her  elbow  the 
evening  before  was  written  on  her  brain  for  all  time.  He 
came  to  a  halt  opposite  Diana,  refusing  to  move,  his  ears 
laid  close  to  his  head,  quivering  all  over,  snatching  con- 
tinually at  his  grooms,  who  seemed  unable  to  cope  with 
him.  Once  he  swung  up  on  his  hind  legs  and  his  cruel 
teeth  flashed  almost  into  the  face  of  one  of  the  men,  who 
was  taken  off  his  guard,  and  who  dropped  on  to  the 
ground,  rolling  out  of  the  way  with  a  howl  that  provoked 
a  shout  of  laughter  from  a  knot  of  Arabs  who  had  gath- 
ered to  watch  the  usual  evening  eccentricities  of  the 
chestnut.  The  French  servant,  coming  from  behind  the 
tent,  stopped  to  speak  to  the  man  as  he  picked  himself  up 
and  made  a  grab  at  the  horse's  head,  and  then  turned  to 
Diana  with  his  pleasant  smile. 

"  He  is  rightly  named  Shaitan,  Madame,  for  he  is  as- 
suredly possessed  of  a  devil,"  he  saH,  indicating  the 
chestnut,  who,  at  that  moment,  with  a  violent  plunge, 
broke  away  from  the  men  who  were  holding  him  and 
headed  for  the  edge  of  the  oasis  with  the  Arabs  streaming 
after  him.  "  The  mounted  men  will  catch  him,"  he  added 
with  a  little  laugh,  in  response  to  Diana's  exclamation. 

"  Is  he  amusing  himself,  or  is  it  really  vice  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  Pure  vice,  Madame.    He  has  killed  three  men." 

Diana  looked  at  him  incredulously,  for  his  tone  was 
casual  and  his  manner  did  not  indicate  any  undue  feeling. 

a  He  ought  to  be  shot,"  she  said  indignantly. 

The  man  shrugged.  "  Monseigneur  is  fond  of  him," 
he  said  quietly. 

And  so  because  Monseigneur  was  fond  of  him  the 
vicious  animal  was  surrounded  with  every  care  that  his 


THE  SHEIK 


71 


master's  pleasure  might  not  be  interfered  with.  Evi- 
dently the  lives  of  his  wretched  people  were  of  less  value 
to  him  than  that  of  a  favourite  horse.  It  sounded  compat- 
ible with  the  mercilessness  she  had  herself  experienced. 
What  she  would  not  have  believed  yesterday  to-day  seemed 
terribly  credible.  The  courage  that  the  relief  of  his  ab- 
sence brought  back  was  sinking  fast,  as  fast  as  the  red  ball 
glowing  in  the  heavens  was  sinking  down  towards  the 
horizon.  She  turned  from  her  own  fearful  thoughts  to 
look  at  some  more  horses  that  were  being  led  away  to 
the  lines  on  the  other  side  of  the  camp. 

"  The  horses  are  magnificent,  but  they  are  bigger  than 
any  Arabs  I  have  seen  before." 

"  They  are  a  special  breed,  Madame,"  replied  the 
Frenchman.  "The  tribe  has  been  famous  for  them  for 
generations.  Monseigneur's  horses  are  known  through 
all  the  Barbary  States,  and  as  far  as  France,"  he  added, 
with  a  little  accent  of  pride  creeping  into  his  voice. 

Diana  looked  at  him  speculatively.  There  was  an  in- 
flection in  his  voice  each  time  he  mentioned  his  master 
that  indicated  a  devotion  that  she  was  unable  to  accredit 
to  the  brute  for  whose  treatment  she  was  still  suffering. 
But  her  thoughts  were  broken  into  abruptly. 

"There  is  Monseigneur,"  said  the  servant  suddenly. 
He  spoke  as  if  she,  too,  must  be  glad  of  his  coming. 
Did  the  valet  imagine  for  one  moment  that  she  was  here 
of  her  own  free  will  Or  was  it  all  a  part  of  the  hypoc- 
risy in  which  she  seemed  to  be  enveloped?  She  flashed 
one  glance  at  the  horseman  riding  through  the  belt  of 
trees  that  fringed  the  oasis  and  an  icy  perspiration  chilled 
her  from  head  to  foot.  She  shrank  back  under  the  awn- 
ing and  into  the  coolness  of  the  tef  t,  raging  against  the 


72 


THE  SHEIK 


mastering  fear  that  she  could  not  overcome.  But  just 
inside  the  open  doorway  she  stood  firm;  even  her  fear 
could  make  her  go  no  further.  She  would  meet  him  here, 
not  cowering  into  the  inner  room  like  a  trembling  creature 
skulking  in  the  furthest  corner  of  its  cage.  That  much 
pride  at  least  was  left. 

From  the  shelter  of  the  tent  she  watched  the  troop 
arrive  at  the  open  space  before  her.  The  horse  the  Sheik 
was  riding  was  jet  black,  and  Diana  looked  from  the 
beautiful  creature's  satiny  coat  to  the  man's  white  robes 
with  angry  contempt. 

"  Black  and  white !  Black  and  white !  Mountebank !  " 
she  muttered  through  her  clenched  teeth.  Then  as  he 
swung  to  the  ground  every  thought  fell  from  her  but  the 
terror  he  inspired.  She  v/aited,  breathless,  the  swift  rac- 
ing of  her  heart  an  actual  physical  pain. 

He  lingered,  fondling  the  great  clack  horse,  and  even 
after  it  had  been  led  away  he  stood  looking  after  it,  talking 
to  a  tall  young  Arab  who  had  ridden  in  with  him.  At 
last  he  turned  and  came  leisurely  towards  the  tent.  He 
paused  at  the  door  to  speak  to  the  Frenchman,  a  pictur- 
esque, barbaric  figure,  with  flowing  robes  and  great  white 
cloak,  the  profile  of  his  lean  face  clean  cut  against  the 
evening  sky,  the  haughty  poise  of  his  head  emphasised  by 
the  attitude  in  which  he  was  standing,  arrogant,  dominat- 
ing. He  moved  his  hands  when  he  spoke  with  quick, 
expressive  gestures,  but  his  voice  was  slow  and  soft, 
pitched  in  a  deep  musical  key,  but  with  all  its  softness 
unmistakably  authoritative.  He  pointed  with  out- 
stretched, steady  hand  to  something  beyond  her  line  of 
vision,  and  as  he  turned  to  enter  the  tent  he  laughed  softly, 
and  she  shivered  involuntarily.    Then  he  swept  in,  and 


THE  SHEIK 


73 


j  she  drew  back  from  him  with  lowered  eyes.    She  would 
i  not  look  at  him ;  she  would  not  meet  his  look.    His  pres- 
)  ence  was  an  offence,  she  was  scorched  with  shame.  Every 
fibre  of  her  being  cried  out  in  protest  at  his  proximity. 
!  She  wished  with  passionate  fierceness  that  she  could  die. 
i  She  shook  feverishly  and  caught  her  quivering  lip  be- 
i  tween  her  teeth  to  keep  it  still,  and  the  red-gold  curls 
lay  wet  against  her  forehead.    Her  breast  heaved  storm- 
ily  with  the  rapid  beating  of  her  heart,  but  she  held  her- 
self proudly  erect.    He  crossed  the  tent  with  a  long  noise- 
less stride. 

|-  "  I  hope  that  Gaston  took  care  of  you  properly  and  gave 
you  everything  that  you  wanted  ?  "  he  said  easily,  stoop- 
ing to  a  little  table  to  light  a  cigarette.  The  coolness  of 
his  words  and  manner  were  like  a  dash  of  cold  water. 
She  had  been  prepared  for  anything  but  this  calm  noncha- 
lance in  a  situation  that  was  intolerable.  His  tone  con- 
veyed the  perfunctory  regret  of  a  host  for  an  unavoid- 
able absence.  Her  fear  gave  way  to  rage,  her  body 
stiffened,  her  hands  clenched. 

"Is  it  not  time  that  this  ended?  Haven't  you  done 
enough  ?  "  she  burst  out  passionately.  "  Why  have  you 
committed  this  outrage  ?  " 

A  thin  thread  of  smoke  drifted  towards  her,  as  if  the 
hand  holding  the  cigarette  had  moved  in  her  direction  in 
one  of  the  gestures  that  she  had  noticed  outside,  but  there 
was  no  answer.  His  silence  infuriated  her  and  she  grew 
utterly  reckless. 

"Do  you  think  that  you  can  keep  me  here,  you  fool? 
That  I  can  vanish  into  the  desert  and  no  notice  be  taken 
of  my  disappearance  —  that  no  inquiries  will  be  made  ?  " 

"  There  will  be  no  inquiries,"  he  answered  calmly  c 


74 


THE  SHEIK 


She  ground  the  heel  of  her  boot  into  the  soft  carpet. 
"  There  will  be  inquiries,"  she  choked  furiously.  "  I  am 
not  such  a  nonentity  that  nothing  will  be  done  when  I  am 
missed.  The  English  authorities  will  make  the  French 
Government  find  out  who  is  responsible,  and  you  will  have 
to  pay  for  what  you  have  done." 

He  laughed  —  the  little  amused  laugh  that  sent  the  same 
cold  feeling  of  dread  through  her  that  she  had  felt  the  day 
before. 

"  The  French  Government  has  no  jurisdiction  over  me. 
I  am  not  subject  to  it.  I  am  an  independent  chief,  my 
own  master.  I  recognise  no  government.  My  tribe  obey 
me  and  only  me." 

Her  shaking  fingers  found  the  handkerchief  for  which 
they  were  groping,  and  she  wiped  the  moisture  that  had 
gathered  on  the  palms  of  her  hands. 

"  When  I  am  missed  — "  she  began  desperately,  trying 
to  keep  a  bold  front,  but  her  assurance  was  leaving  her. 

"  You  will  not  be  missed  for  so  long  that  it  will  be  too 
late,"  he  replied  drily. 

"  Too  late !    What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  gasped. 

"  Your  own  plans  will  stop  any  possibility  of  inquiry 
for  some  time  to  come."  He  paused,  and  behind  her, 
Diana  heard  him  strike  another  match.  The  banal  little 
incident  nearly  snapped  her  nerves  that  were  stretched  to 
breaking-point.  She  put  her  hands  to  her  head  to  try 
and  stop  the  throbbing  in  her  temples. 

"  You  engaged  a  caravan  in  charge  of  Mustafa  Ali," 
he  went  on  evenly,  "  to  travel  in  the  desert  for  a  month. 
You  set  out  from  Biskra,  but  your  intention  was  at  the 
end  of  the  time  to  travel  northward  to  Oran  and  there 
dismiss  the  caravan.    From  there  you  were  to  cross  to 


THE  SHEIK 


75 


Marseilles,  then  to  Cherbourg,  where  you  would  em- 
bark for  America  to  follow  your  brother,  who  has  already 
started." 

She  listened  breathlessly  with  an  ever-increasing  fear 
growing  in  her  eyes.  The  slow,  casual  voice  detailing  her 
itinerary  with  the  quiet  certainty  of  perfect  knowledge 
filled  her  with  a  terror  that  made  her  want  to  scream. 
She  swayed  a  little  as  she  stood,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
endless  strip  of  desert  and  gold-flecked  sky  visible  through 
the  opening  of  the  tent,  but  she  saw  nothing  of  the  un- 
dulating sand,  nor  the  red  glory  of  the  setting  sun. 

"  How  do  you  know  —  all  —  this  ?  "  she  whispered  with 
dry  lips  that  trembled. 

"  I  wished  to  know.  It  was  quite  simple."  The  an- 
swer was  given  carelessly,  and  again  the  thin  thread  of 
smoke  drifted  across  her  face. 

Her  anger  flamed  up  again.  "  Is  it  money  that  you 
want?  Are  you  holding  me  for  ransom?"  But  her 
scornful  voice  faltered  and  died  away  on  the  last  word, 
and  it  did  not  need  his  silence  to  convince  her  that  it  was 
no  question  of  ransom.  She  had  only  spoken  to  try  and 
stifle  the  inner  conviction  that  grew  despite  her  efforts  to 
crush  it.  Her  hands  were  locked  together  tightly,  her 
eyes  still  staring  out  unseeing  at  the  wonderful  sunset. 
She  felt  dazed,  hopeless,  like  a  fugitive  who  has  turned 
into  a  cul-de-sac,  hemmed  in  on  every  side ;  there  seemed 
no  way  out,  no  loophole  of  escape.  She  wrung  her  hands 
convulsively  and  a  great  shudder  shook  her.  Then  in  her 
despair  a  faint  ray  of  hope  came. 

"  Mustafa  AH,  or  one  of  the  caravan  men  may  have 
given  the  alarm  already  in  Biskra  —  if  you  have  not-— 
murdered  them  all,"  she  whispered  jerkily. 


70 


THE  SHEIK 


"  I  have  not  murdered  them  all,"  he  rejoined  shortly, 
"  but  Mustafa  Ali  will  not  give  any  alarm  in  Biskra." 

"  Why  ?  "  She  tried  to  keep  silent,  but  the  question 
was  forced  from  her,  and  she  waited  tense  for  his  answer. 
Tales  of  ruthless  Arab  cruelty  surged  through  her  mind. 
What  had  been  the  fate  of  the  unfortunate  caravan 
leader?   Her  eyes  closed  and  her  throat  grew  dry. 

"  There  was  no  need  for  any  murder,"  he  continued 
sarcastically.  "  When  you  come  to  know  me  better  you 
will  realise  that  I  do  not  leave  too  much  to  chance.  1  All 
things  are  with  Allah,  blessed  be  his  name/  Good !  But 
it  is  well  to  remember  that  Allah  does  not  always  con- 
cern himself  with  the  affairs  of  men,  and  arrange  accord- 
ingly. If  I  had  left  this  affair  to  chance  there  might 
very  easily  have  been,  as  you  suggest,  murder  done — j 
though  we  do  not  call  it  murder  in  the  desert.  It  was 
very  simple.  Voyons!  You  paid  Mustafa  Ali  well  to 
guide  you  in  the  desert.  I  paid  him  better  to  lead  you 
to  me.  I  paid  him  well  enough  to  make  him  content  to 
remove  himself  from  Biskra,  where  awkward  questions 
might  be  asked,  to  another  sphere  of  usefulness  where  he 
is  not  known,  and  where  he  can  build  up  for  himself  a 
new  reputation  as  a  caravan  leader." 

There  was  another  silence  and  her  hands  went  groping 
to  her  throat.  It  had  been  no  chance  affair  then  —  no 
accidental  meeting  that  the  Arab  chief  had  turned  to  his 
own  account,  but  an  organised  outrage  that  had  been  care- 
fully planned  from  the  beginning.  From  the  very  outset 
she  had  been  a  dupe.  She  ground  her  teeth  with  rage. 
Her  suave,  subservient  guide  had  been  leading  her  the 
whole  time,  not  in  the  direction  that  had  been  mapped  out 
in  Biskra,  but  towards  the  man  who  had  bought  him  to 


THE  SHEIK 


77 


betray  his  trust.  Mustafa  Ali's  shifting  eyes,  his  desire 
to  hurry  her  from  the  oasis  where  they  had  rested  at  mid- 
day, his  tone  were  all  explained.  He  had  acted  well. 
The  last  touch  —  the  imaginary  wound  that  had  toppled 
him  slowly  out  of  his  saddle  had  been  a  masterpiece,  she 
reflected  bitterly.  Nothing  had  been  omitted  to  make  the 
attempt  a  success.  The  horse  that  had  been  given  her 
to  ride  was  the  Sheik's  beyond  all  doubt,  trained  to  his 
whistle.  Even  her  revolver  had  been  tampered  with. 
She  had  not  missed,  as  she  had  thought.  She  remem- 
bered the  noise,  the  fleeting  vision  she  had  had  in  the  hotel 
at  Biskra.  It  had  been  some  one  in  her  room,  Mustafa 
Ali  himself,  or  one  of  his  men,  who  had  stolen  in  and 
substituted  the  blank  cartridges.  The  possibility  of 
Aubrey  changing  his  mind  and  accompanying  her  must 
also  have  been  thought  of,  for  the  Sheik  had  provided 
against  the  resistance  that  would  certainly  have  then  been 
made  by  the  number  of  followers  he  had  brought  with 
him  —  a  large  enough  force  to  frustrate  easily  any  at- 
tempted opposition  to  the  attack. 

The  net  that  she  had  felt  closing  round  her  earlier  in 
the  afternoon  seemed  wrapped  round  her  now  inextrica- 
bly, drawing  tighter  and  tighter,  smothering  her.  She 
gasped  for  breath.  The  sinking  sun  seemed  suddenly  to 
leap  up  wildly  into  the  heavens;  then  she  pulled  herself 
together  with  a  tremendous  effort.  "  Why  have  you  done 
this  ?  "  she  murmured  faintly. 

Then  for  a  moment  her  heart  stood  still,  her  eyes 
dilating.  He  had  come  close  behind  her,  and  she  waited 
in  an  agony,  until  he  caught  her  to  him,  crushing  her 
against  him,  forcing  her  head  back  on  his  arm. 

"  Because  I  wanted  you.    Because  one  day  in  Biskra, 


78 


THE  SHEIK 


y  four  weeks  ago,  I  saw  you  for  a  few  moments,  long 
enough  to  know  that  I  wanted  you.  And  what  I  want  I 
take.  You  played  into  my  hands.  You  arranged  a  touf 
in  the  desert    The  rest  was  easy." 

Her  eyes  were  shut,  the  long  dark  lashes  quivering  on 
her  pale  cheeks  so  that  she  could  not  see  his  face,  but 
she  felt  him  draw  her  closer  to  him  and  then  his  fierce 
kisses  on  her  mouth.  She  struggled  frantically,  but  she 
was  helpless,  and  he  laughed  softly  as  he  kissed  her  lips, 
her  hair,  her  eyes  passionately.  He  stood  quite  still,  but 
she  felt  the  heavy  beating  of  his  heart  under  her  cheek, 
and  understood  dimly  the  passion  that  she  had  aroused  in 
him.  She  had  experienced  his  tremendous  strength. 
She  realised  from  what  he  had  told  her  that  he  recognised 
no  law  beyond  his  own  wishes,  and  was  prepared  to  go  to 
\  any  lengths  to  fulfil  them.  She  knew  that  her  life  was 
in  his  hands,  that  he  could  break  her  with  his  lean 
brown  fingers  like  a  toy  is  broken,  and  all  at  once  she 
felt  pitifully  weak  and  frightened.  She  was  utterly  in 
his  power  and  at  his  mercy  —  the  mercy  of  an  Arab  who 
was  merciless. 

She  gave  in  suddenly,  lying  quiet  in  his  arms.  She  had 
touched  the  lowest  depths  of  degradation;  he  could  do 
nothing  more  to  her  than  he  had  done.  For  the  moment 
she  could  fight  no  further,  she  was  worn  out  and  utterly 
weary.  A  numb  feeling  of  despair  came  over  her  and 
with  it  a  sense  of  unreality,  as  if  it  were  a  hideous  night- 
mare from  which  she  would  wake,  for  the  truth  seemed 
too  impossible,  the  setting  too  theatrical.  The  man  him- 
self was  a  mystery.  She  could  not  reconcile  him  and  the 
barbaric  display  in  which  he  lived  with  the  evidences  of 
refinement  and  education  that  the  well-worn  books  in 


THE  SHEIK 


79 


the  tent  evinced.  The  fastidious  ordering  of  his  appoint- 
ments puzzled  her ;  it  was  strange  to  find  in  such  a  place. 
A  dozen  incongruities  that  she  had  noticed  during  the 
day  crowded  into  her  recollection  until  her  head  reeled. 
She  turned  from  them  wearily ;  she  was  too  tired  to  think, 
too  spent  in  mind  and  body.  And  with  the  despair  a 
kind  of  indifference  stole  over  her.  She  had  suffered  so 
much  that  nothing  more  mattered. 

The  strong  arms  around  her  tightened  slowly.  "  Look 
at  me,"  he  said  in  the  soft  slow  voice  that  seemed  habitual 
to  him,  and  which  contrasted  oddly  with  the  neat,  clip- 
ping French  that  he  spoke.  She  shivered  and  her  dark 
lashes  flickered  for  a  moment.  "  Look  at  me."  His 
voice  was  just  as  slow,  just  as  soft,  but  into  it  had  crept 
an  inflection  that  was  unmistakable. 

Twenty-four  hours  ago  Diana  Mayo  had  not  known 
the  meaning  of  the  word  fear,  and  had  never  in  all  her 
life  obeyed  any  one  against  her  inclination,  but  in  twenty- 
four  hours  she  had  lived  through  years  of  emotions.  For*' 
the  first  time  she  had  pitted  her  will  against  a  will  that 
was  stronger  than  her  own,  for  the  first  time  she  had 
met  an  arrogance  that  was  greater  and  a  determination 
that  was  firmer  than  hers.  For  the  first  time  she  had  met 
a  man  who  had  failed  to  bow  to  her  wishes,  whom  a 
look  had  been  powerless  to  transform  into  a  willing  slave. 
In  a  few  hours  that  had  elapsed  she  had  learned  fear,  a 
terrible  fear  that  left  her  sick  with  apprehension,  and  she 
was  learning  obedience.  Obedient  now,  she  forced  her- 
self to  lift  her  eyes  to  his,  and  the  shamed  blood  surged 
slowly  into  her  cheeks.  His  dark,  passionate  eyes  burnt 
into  her  like  a  hot  flame.  His  encircling  arms  were  like 
bands  of  fire,  scorching  her.    His  touch  was  torture. 


8o 


THE  SHEIK 


Helpless,  like  a  trapped  wild  thing,  she  lay  against  him, 
panting,  trembling,  her  wide  eyes  fixed  on  him,  held 
against  their  will.  Fascinated  she  could  not  turn  them 
away,  and  the  image  of  the  brown,  handsome  face  with 
its  flashing  eyes,  straight,  cruel  mouth  and  strong  chin 
seemed  searing  into  her  brain.  The  faint  indefinite  scent 
of  an  uncommon  Turkish  tobacco  clung  about  him,  en- 
veloping her.  She  had  been  conscious  of  the  same  scent 
the  previous  day  when  he  had  held  her  in  his  arms  during 
the  wild  ride  across  the  desert. 

He  smiled  down  at  her  suddenly.  "Bon  Dieu!  Do 
you  know  how  beautiful  you  are?"  he  murmured.  But 
the  sound  of  his  voice  seemed  to  break  a  spell  that  had 
kept  her  dumb.    She  struggled  again  to  free  herself. 

"  Let  me  go !  "  she  cried  piteously,  and  it  was  her  com- 
plete immunity  from  him  that  she  prayed  for,  but  he  chose 
wilfully  to  misunderstand  her.  The  passion  faded  from 
his  eyes,  giving  place  to  a  gleam  of  mockery. 

"  There  is  plenty  of  time.  Gaston  is  the  most  discreet 
servant.  We  shall  hear  him  when  he  comes,"  he  said 
with  a  low  laugh. 

But  she  persisted  with  the  courage  of  desperation. 
"  When  will  you  let  me  go  ?  " 

With  an  exclamation  of  impatience  he  put  her  from 
him  roughly,  and  going  to  the  divan  flung  himself  down 
on  the  cushions,  lit  another  cigarette  and  picked  up  a 
magazine  that  was  lying  on  an  inlaid  stool  beside  him. 

She  bit  her  lips  to  keep  back  the  hysterical  sobs  that 
rose  in  her  throat,  nerving  herself  with  clenched  hands, 
and  followed  him.  "  You  must  tell  me.  I  must  know. 
When  will  you  let  me  go  ?  " 

He  turned  a  page  with  deliberation,  and  flicked  the  ash 


THE  SHEIK 


81 


from  his  cigarette  before  looking  up.  A  heavy  scowl 
gathered  on  his  face,  and  his  eyes  swept  her  from  head 
to  foot  with  a  slow  scrutiny  that  made  her  shrink. 
"  When  I  am  tired  of  you,"  he  said  coldly. 

She  shuddered  violently  and  turned  away  with  a  little 
moan,  stumbling  blindly  towards  the  inner  room,  but  as 
she  reached  the  curtains  his  voice  arrested  her.  He  had 
thrown  aside  the  magazine  and  was  lying  back  on  the 
divan,  his  long  limbs  stretched  out  indolently,  his  hands 
clasped  behind  his  head. 

"  You  make  a  very  charming  boy,"  he  said  lightly,  with 
a  faint  smile,  u  but  it  was  not  a  boy  that  I  saw  in  Biskra. 
You  understand  ?  " 

Beyond  the  curtains  she  stood  a  moment,  shaking  all 
over,  her  face  hidden  in  her  hands,  able  to  relax  a  little 
the  hold  she  was  keeping  on  herself.  Yes!  She  under- 
stood, plainly  enough.  The  understanding  had  already 
been  forced  upon  her.  It  was  an  order  from  one  who  was 
prepared  to  compel  his  commands,  to  make  herself  more 
attractive  with  all  that  it  implied  in  the  eyes  of  the  man 
who  held  her  in  his  power  and  who  looked  at  her  as  no 
other  man  had  ever  dared  to  look,  with  appraising  criti- 
cism that  made  her  acutely  conscious  of  her  sex,  that 
made  her  feel  like  a  slave  exposed  for  sale  in  a  public 
market. 

She  must  take  off  the  boyish  clothes  that  somehow 
seemed  to  lend  her  courage  and  substitute,  to  gratify  the 
whim  of  the  savage  in  the  next  room,  the  womanly  dress 
that  revealed  more  intimately  the  slender  lines  of  her 
figure  and  intensified  the  uncommon  beauty  of  her  face. 

She  went  to  the  dressing  table  with  "lagging  feet  and 
stared  resentfully  at  the  white  face  and  haggard  eyes 


82 


THE  SHEIK 


that  looked  back  at  her  from  the  mirror.  It  was  like  the 
face  of  a  stranger.  Aubrey's  words  came  back  to  her 
with  an  irony  that  was  horrible.  To-night  she  did  not 
dress  to  please  herself.  Her  face  was  set,  her  eyes  al- 
most black  with  rage,  but  behind  the  rage  there  was  lurk- 
ing apprehension.  She  started  at  every  sound  that  came 
from  the  adjoining  room.  Her  fingers,  wet  with  perspira- 
tion, seemed  almost  unable  to  fulfil  their  task.  She  hated 
him,  she  hated  herself,  she  hated  her  beauty  that  had 
brought  this  horror  upon  her.  She  would  have  rebelled 
if  she  had  dared,  but  instinctively  she  hurried  —  fear  had 
already  driven  her  so  far.  But  when  she  was  ready  she 
did  not  move  from  the  table  beside  which  she  stood.  Fear 
had  forced  her  to  haste,  but  her  still  struggling  pride 
would  not  permit  her  to  obey  her  fear  any  further.  She 
raised  her  eyes  to  the  glass  again,  glowering  angrily  at 
the  pale  reflection,  and  the  old  obstinacy  mingled  with 
the  new  pain  that  filled  them.  Must  she  endure  his 
mocking  glance  with  chalk-like  cheeks  and  eyes  like  a 
beaten  hound?  Had  she  not  even  courage  enough  left 
to  hide  the  fear  that  filled  her  with  self -contempt?  The 
wave  of  anger  that  went  through  her  rushed  the  colour 
into  her  fact  and  she  leaned  nearer  the  glass  with  a  little 
murmur  of  satisfaction  that  stopped  abruptly  as  her  fin- 
gers gripped  the  edge  of  the  table,  and  she  continued  star- 
ing into  the  mirror  not  at  her  own  face,  but  at  the  white 
robes  that  appeared  behind  her  head,  blotting  out  the 
limited  view  she  had  had  of  the  room. 

The  Sheik  was  standing  behind  her.  He  had  come 
with  the  peculiar  noiseless  tread  that  she  had  noticed  be- 
fore. He  swung  her  round  to  look  at  her  and  she  writhed 
lender  his  eyes  of  admiration,  straining  from  him  as  far  as 


THE  SHEIK 


83 


his  grip  allowed.  Holding  her  with  one  hand  he  took  her 
chin  in  the  other  and  tilted  her  face  up  to  his  with  a 
little  smile.  "  Don't  look  so  frightened.  I  don't  want 
anything  more  deadly  than  some  soap  and  water.  Surely 
even  an  Arab  may  be  allowed  to  wash  his  hands  ? " 

His  mocking  voice  and  his  taunt  of  fear  stung  her,  but 
she  would  not  answer  and,  with  a  laugh  and  a  shrug,  he 
let  her  go,  picking  up  a  razor  from  the  table  and  lounging 
into  the  bathroom. 

With  crimson  cheeks  Diana  fled  into  the  outer  room. 
His  manner  could  not  have  been  more  casual  if  she  had 
been  his  wife  a  dozen  years.  She  waited  for  him  in  a 
tumult  of  emotions,  but  with  the  advent  of  Gaston  and 
dinner  he  returned  to  the  attitude  of  dispassionate,  court- 
eous host  that  he  had  assumed  when  he  first  came  in.  He 
was  a  few  minutes  late,  and  apologised  gravely  as  he  sat 
down  opposite  her.  He  maintained  the  attitude  through- 
out dinner,  and  conscious  of  the  watching  manservant 
Diana  made  herself  reply  to  his  easy  conversation. 

He  talked  mainly  of  the  desert  and  the  sport  that  it 
offered,  as  if  he  had  studied  her  tastes  and  chosen  the 
topic  to  please  her.  He  spoke  well;  what  he  said  was 
interesting,  and  showed  complete  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  at  any  other  time  Diana  would  have  listened 
fascinated  and  absorbed,  but  now  the  soft,  slow,  cultured 
voice  only  seemed  to  add  to  the  incongruity  of  the  situa- 
tion. The  role  of  willing  guest  that  he  was  forcing  upon 
her  was  almost  more  than  she  could  play,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  sitting  still  and  responding  was  taxing  her  endur- 
ance to  the  utmost.  And  all  the  time  she  was  aware 
acutely  of  his  constant  surveillance.  Reluctantly  her  own 
furtive  glance  was  drawn  frequently  to  his  face,  and 


84 


THE  SHEIK 


always  his  dark  fierce  eyes  were  watching  her  with  a 
steadiness  that  racked  her  nerves,  till  she  was  reminded 
irresistibly  of  an  exhibition  that  she  had  seen  in  a  circus 
in  Vienna,  where  a  lion  tamer  had  concluded  an  unusually 
daring  performance  by  dining  in  the  lions'  cage,  sur- 
rounded by  savage  snarling  brutes  very  different  from  the 
sleepy  half-drugged  creatures  ordinarily  shown.  Inter- 
ested in  the  animals,  she  had  gone  behind  with  Aubrey 
after  the  performance,  and  while  fondling  some  tiny  lion 
cubs  that  had  been  brought  for  her  to  see  had  chatted  with 
the  tamer,  a  girl  little  older  than  herself.  She  had  been 
somewhat  unapproachable  until  she  had  realised  from 
Diana's  friendly  manner  that  her  questions  were  prompted 
by  real  interest  and  not  mere  curiosity,  and  had  unbent 
with  surprising  swiftness,  accepting  Diana's  proffered 
cigarettes  and  taking  her  to  see  her  special  lions,  who 
were  boxed  for  the  night.  Diana  had  wandered  up  and 
down  before  the  narrow  cages,  looking  at  the  big  brutes 
still  restless  from  the  show,  rubbing  her  cheek  on  the 
soft  little  round  head  of  the  cub  she  was  holding  in  her 
arms,  smiling  at  its  sleepy  rasping  purr. 

"  Are  you  ever  afraid  ?  "  she  had  asked  suddenly  — 
"  not  of  the  ordinary  performance,  but  of  that  last  act, 
when  you  dine  all  alone  with  them  ?  " 

The  girl  shrugged  her  shoulders,  blowing  a  little  cloud 
of  smoke  into  the  cub's  face,  and  her  eyes  had  met 
Diana's  slowly  over  his  little  yellow  body.  "  One  does 
not  taste  very  much,"  she  had  said  drily. 

And  it  was  so  with  Diana.  She  had  eaten  mechani- 
cally everything  that  had  been  put  before  her,  but  she  had 
tasted  nothing.  She  had  one  thought  in  her  mind  that 
excluded  everything  else  —  to  hide  from  the  probing  eyes 


THE  SHEIK 


85 


that  watched  her  ceaselessly  the  overmastering  fear  that 
augmented  every  moment.  One  thing  she  had  noticed 
during  the  meal.  For  her  only  the  servant  poured  out  the 
light  French  wine  that  he  had  brought.  Her  eyes  wan- 
dered to  the  Sheik's  empty  glass,  and  meeting  her  glance 
he  smiled,  with  a  little  inclination. 

"  Excuse  me.  I  do  not  drink  wine.  It  is  my  only 
virtue,"  he  added,  with  a  sudden  gleam  leaping  into  his 
eyes  that  drove  the  blood  into  her  cheeks  and  her  own 
eyes  on  to  her  plate. 

She  had  forgotten  that  he  was  an  Arab. 

The  dinner  seemed  interminable,  and  yet  she  wished 
that  it  would  never  end.  While  the  servant  was  in  the 
room  she  was  safe;  the  thought  of  his  going  sent  a  cold 
shudder  through  her.  With  the  coffee  came  a  huge  Per- 
sian hound,  almost  upsetting  the  Frenchman  in  the  en- 
trance in  his  frantic  endeavour  to  precede  him  through 
the  doorway.  He  flung  his  long  grey  body  across  the 
Sheik's  knees  with  a  whine  of  pleasure  and  then  turned 
his  head  to  growl  at  Diana.  But  the  growl  died  away 
quickly,  and  he  lumbered  down  and  came  to  her  side 
curiously,  eyeing  her  for  a  moment  and  then  thrusting  his 
big  head  against  her. 

The  Sheik  laughed.  "You  are  honoured.  Kopec 
makes  few  friends." 

She  did  not  anwser.  The  natural  reply  was  almost 
certain  to  provoke  a  retort  that  she  did  not  desire,  so  she 
remained  silent,  smoothing  the  hound's  rough  coat.  With 
her  heart  turning  slowly  to  lead  she  lingered  over  her 
coffee  until  there  was  no  further  possible  pretext  for  re- 
maining at  the  table,  then  rose  with  a  short,  sharp  sigh. 

For  some  minutes  the  Sheik  had  sat  silent,  his  own 


86 


THE  SHEIK 


coffee  long  since  finished.  He  made  no  comment  when 
she  got  up,  and  went  himself  to  the  big  divan,  followed 
by  the  hound,  who  had  gone  back  to  him  as  soon  as  he 
moved. 

Diana  turned  to  the  little  bookcase,  snatching  at  the 
opportunity  it  offered  for  further  silence,  and  took  a  book 
at  random.  She  did  not  know  what  she  was  looking  at, 
she  did  not  care.  She  only  prayed  fervently  that  she 
might  be  left  alone,  that  the  sudden  silent  fit  that  had 
come  over  him  might  continue. 

Near  her  Gaston  was  clearing  away  the  table  and  as 
he  finished  he  paused  to  speak  to  his  master.  Diana 
heard  the  words  "  le  petit  Sheik,"  but  the  rest  was  in 
Arabic  and  unintelligible  to  her.  The  Sheik  frowned  with 
a  gesture  of  annoyance,  then  nodded,  and  the  servant  left 
the  tent. 

A  few  moments  after  a  voice  that  she  had  not  heard 
before  made  her  look  up. 

.  The  young  Arab  who  had  ridden  in  with  the  Sheik 
was  standing  beside  the  divan.  The  fierce  eyes  that  were 
watching  her  every  movement  met  hers,  and  his  cigarette 
was  waved  towards  the  young  man.  "  My  lieutenant, 
Yusef,  a  son  of  the  desert  with  the  soul  of  a  flaneur. 
His  body  is  here  with  me,  but  his  heart  is  on  the  trottoirs 
of  Algiers." 

The  tall  lad  laughed  and  salaamed  profoundly,  then 
straightened  himself,  posing  magnificently  until  a  curt 
word  from  the  Sheik  recalled  him  to  his  errand  and  his 
swagger  changed  swiftly  to  a  deference  of  which  the 
significance  was  not  lost  on  Diana.  The  Arab  might  un- 
bend to  his  people  if  it  so  pleased  him,  but  he  kept  them 
well  in  hand.    She  looked  at  the  lieutenant  as  he  stood 


THE  SHEIK 


87 


before  his  chief.  He  was  tall  and  slender  as  a  girl,  with 
an  air  of  languid  indolence  that  was  obviously  a  pose,  for 
it  was  slipping  from  him  now  fast  as  he  talked.  His  face 
was  strikingly  handsome,  only  saved  from  effeminacy 
by  a  firm  chin.  He  was  patently  aware  of  his  good  looks. 
But  he  was  also  patently  in  awe  of  his  chief,  and  the 
news  that  he  brought  was  apparently  not  welcome. 

Through  her  thick  lashes  Diana  watched  them  intently. 
The  younger  man  voluble,  gesticulating,  at  times  almost 
cringing.  The  Sheik  silent,  except  for  an  occasional 
word,  the  heavy  scowl  back  on  his  face,  growing  blacker 
every  moment.  At  last  with  a  shrug  of  impatience  he 
got  up  and  they  went  out  together,  the  hound  following 
them.  Diana  subsided  on  to  the  thick  rug  beside  the  book- 
case. For  a  moment  again  she  was  alone,  free  of  the 
watching  eyes  that  seemed  to  be  burning  into  her  all  the 
time,  free  of  the  hated  proximity.  She  dropped  her  head 
on  her  knees  with  a  little  whimper  of  weariness. 
For  a  moment  she  need  not  check  the  tide  of 
misery  that  rushed  over  her.  She  was  tired  in  mind 
and  body,  exhausted  with  the  emotion  that  had 
shaken  her  until  she  knew  that  no  matter  what 
happened  in  the  future  the  Diana  of  yesterday  was 
dead,  and  her  new  self  was  strange  and  unfamiliar.  She 
did  not  trust  it;  she  feared  its  capacity  for  maintaining 
the  struggle  she  had  resolved  upon.  The  old  courageous 
self  had  never  failed  her,  this  new  shrinking  fearful 
personality  filled  her  with  distrust.  Her  confidence  in 
herself  was  gone.  Her  contempt  of  herself  was  un- 
utterable. The  strength  that  remained  was  not  sufficient 
to  conquer  the  fear  that  had  taken  so  strong  a  hold  upon 
her.    She  could  only  hope  to  hide  it,  to  deny  him  at  least 


88 


THE  SHEIK 


that  much  satisfaction.  She  had  grovelled  at  his  feet 
once  and  it  had  amused  him.  He  had  laughed!  She 
would  die  rather  than  afford  him  a  similar  amusement. 
She  could  never  wipe  out  the  recollection  of  her  coward- 
ice; he  would  remember  always,  and  so  would  she;  but 
she  could  atone  for1  it  if  her  strength  held.  And  she 
prayed  that  it  might  hold,  until  a  sob  broke  from  her 
and  her  hands  cramped  around  her  knees.  She  pushed 
her  hair  off  her  forehead  with  a  heavy  sigh,  and  she  looked 
back  over  her  shoulder  at  the  empty  room.  It  had 
changed  since  this  morning  in  the  indefinable  way  a 
strange  room  does  change  after  a  few  hours'  association. 
If  she  could  leave  it  now  and  never  see  it  again  in  all 
her  life  no  single  detail  of  it  would  ever  be  forgotten. 
Its  characteristics  had  been  stamped  upon  her  as  famil- 
iarly as  if  the  hours  passed  in  it  had  been  years.  And 
yesterday  was  years  ago,  when  the  poor  silly  fool  that  had 
been  Diana  Mayo  had  ridden  blindly  into  the  trap  from 
which  her  boasted  independence  had  not  been  able  to 
save  her.  She  had  paid  heavily  for  the  determination  to 
ignore  the  restrictions  of  her  sex  laid  upon  her  and  the 
payment  was  not  yet  oven  Her  tired  body  shrank  from 
the  struggle  that  must  recommence  so  soon.  If  he  would 
only  spare  her  until  this  numbing  weariness  that  made  her 
so  powerless  should  lessen.  She  heard  his  voice  at  the 
door  and  her  icy  fingers  grasped  at  the  book  that  had 
slipped  to  the  ground.  The  thick  rugs  deadened  the  sound 
of  his  movements,  but  she  knew  instinctively  that  he  had 
come  in  and  gone  back  to  the  divan  where  he  had  been 
sitting  before.  She  knew  that  he  was  looking  at  her. 
She  could  feel  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  and  she  quivered 
with  the  consciousness  of  his  stare.    She  waited,  shiver- 


THE  SHEIK 


89 


ing,  for  him  to  speak  or  move.  His  methods  of  torture 
were  diverse,  she  thought  with  dreary  bitterness.  Behind 
the  tent  in  the  men's  lines  a  tom-tom  was  beating,  and 
the  irregular  rhythm  seemed  hammering  inside  her  own 
head.  She  could  have  shrieked  with  the  agony  of  it. 
"  Come  here  —  Diane." 

She  started,  for  a  moment  hardly  recognising  the  Gallic 
rendering  of  her  name,  and  then  flushed  angrily  without 
answering  or  moving.  It  was  a  very  little  thing  to  stir 
her  after  all  that  had  been  done,  but  the  use  of  her  name 
flamed  the  anger  that  had  been  almost  swamped  in  fear. 
The  proprietory  tone  in  his  voice  roused  all  her  inherent 
obstinacy.  She  was  not  his  to  go  at  his  call.  What  he 
wanted  he  must  take  —  she  would  never  give  voluntarily. 
She  sat  with  her  hands  gripped  tightly  in  her  lap,  breath- 
ing rapidly,  her  eyes  dark  with  apprehension. 

"  Come  here,"  he  repeated  sharply. 

Still  she  took  no  notice,  but  the  face  that  he  could  not 
see  was  growing  very  white. 

M  I  am  not  accustomed  to  having  my  orders  disobeyed," 
he  said  at  last,  very  slowly. 

"  And  I  am  not  accustomed  to  obeying  orders,"  she 
retorted  fiercely,  though  her  lips  were  trembling. 

M  You  will  learn."  The  sinister  accent  of  his  voice 
almost  shattered  her  remaining  courage. 

She  crouched,  gasping,  on  the  ground,  the  same  horrible 
terror  that  had  come  to  her  last  night  stealing  over  her 
irresistibly,  paralysing  her.  Waiting,  listening,  agonising, 
the  tom-tom  growing  louder  and  louder  —  or  was  it  only 
the  throbbing  in  her  own  head?  With  a  choking  cry  she 
leaped  to  her  feet  suddenly  and  fled  from  him,  back  till 
the  side  of  the  tent  stopped  her  and  she  stood,  with  wide- 


9o 


THE  SHEIK 


flung  arms,  gripping  the  black  and  silver  hangings  until 
he  reached  her. 

Stooping  he  disengaged  her  clinging  fingers  from  the 
heavy  drapery  and  drew  her  hands  slowly  together  up 
to  his  breast  with  a  little  smile.  "  Come,"  he  whispered, 
his  passionate  eyes  devouring  her. 

She  fought  against  the  fascination  with  which  they 
dominated  her,  resisting  him  dumbly  with  tight-locked 
lips  till  he  held  her  palpitating  in  his  arms. 

"  Little  fool/'  he  said  with  a  deepening  smile.  "  Better 
me  than  my  men." 

The  gibe  broke  her  silence. 

"  Oh,  you  brute !  You  brute !  "  she  wailed,  until  his 
kisses  silenced  her. 


CHAPTER  IV 


"A  month!  Thirty-one  days!  Oh,  God!  Only 
thirty-one  days.  It  seems  a  lifetime.  Only  a  month 
since  I  left  Biskra.    A  month  !    A  month !  " 

Diana  flung  herself  on  to  her  face,  burying  her  head 
deeply  into  the  cushions  of  the  divan,  shutting  out  from 
her  sight  the  barbaric  luxury  of  her  surroundings,  shud- 
dering convulsively.  She  did  not  cry.  The  complete 
breakdown  of  the  first  night  had  never  been  repeated. 
Tears  of  shame  and  anger  had  risen  in  her  eyes  often, 
but  she  would  not  let  them  fall.  She  would  not  give  her 
captor  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  he  could  make 
her  weep.  Her  pride  was  dying  hard.  Her  mind  trav- 
elled back  slowly  over  the  days  and  nights  of  anguished 
revolt,  the  perpetual  clash  of  will  against  will,  the  en- 
forced obedience  that  had  made  up  this  month  of  horror. 
A  month  of  experience  of  such  bitterness  that  she  won- 
dered dully  how  she  still  had  the  courage  to  rebel.  For 
the  first  time  in  her  life  she  had  had  to  obey.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life  she  was  of  no  account.  For  the 
first  time  she  had  been  made  conscious  of  the  inferiority 
of  her  sex.  The  training  of  years  had  broken  down 
under  the  experience.  The  hypothetical  status  in  which 
she  had  stood  with  regard  to  Aubrey  and  his  friends  was 
not  tolerated  here,  where  every  moment  she  was  made  to 
feel  acutely  that  she  was  a.woman,  forced  to  submit  to 
everything  to  which  her  womanhood  exposed  her,  forced 
91 


92 


THE  SHEIK 


to  endure  everything  that  he  might  put  upon  her  —  a 
chattel,  a  slave  to  do  his  bidding,  to  bear  his  pleasure 
and  his  displeasure,  shaken  to  the  very  foundation  of 
her  being  with  the  upheaval  of  her  convictions  and  the 
ruthless  violence  done  to  her  cold,  sexless  temperament. 
The  humiliation  of  it  seared  her  proud  heart.  He  was 
pitiless  in  his  arrogance,  pitiless  in  his  Oriental  disregard 
of  the  woman  subjugated.  He  was  an  Arab,  to  whom 
the  feelings  of  a  woman  were  non-existent.  He  had 
taken  her  to  please  himself  and  he  kept  her  to  please 
himself,  to  amuse  him  in  his  moments  of  relaxation. 

To  Diana  before  she  had  come  to  Africa  the  life  of 
an  Arab  Sheik  in  his  native  desert  had  been  a  very  vision- 
ary affair.  The  term  sheik  itself  was  elastic.  She  had 
been  shown  Sheiks  in  Biskra  who  drove  hard  bargains  to 
hire  out  mangy  camels  and  sore-covered  donkeys  for  trips 
into  the  interior.  Her  own  faithless  caravan-leader  had 
called  himself  "  Sheik."  But  she  had  heard  also  of 
other  and  different  Sheiks  who  lived  far  away  across  the 
shimmering  sand,  powerful  chiefs  with  large  followings, 
who  seemed  more  like  the  Arabs  of  her  imaginings,  and 
of  whose  lives  she  had  the  haziest  idea.  When  not  en- 
gaged in  killing  their  neighbours  she  visualized  them 
drowsing  away  whole  days  under  the  influence  of  nar- 
cotics, lethargic  with  sensual  indulgence.  The  pictures 
she  had  seen  had  been  mostly  of  fat  old  men  sitting  cross- 
legged  in  the  entrance  of  their  tents,  waited  on  by  hordes 
of  retainers,  and  looking  languidly,  with  an  air  of  utter 
boredom,  at  some  miserable  slave  being  beaten  to  death. 

She  had  not  been  prepared  for  the  ceaseless  activity 
of  the  man  whose  prisoner  she  was.  His  life  was  hard, 
Strenuous  and  occupied.    His  days  were  full,  partly  with 


THE  SHEIK 


93 


the  magnificent  horses  that  he  bred,  and  partly  with  tribal 
affairs  that  took  him  from  the  camp  for  hours  at  a  time. 
Upon  one  or  two  occasions  he  had  been  away  for  the 
whole  night  and  had  come  back  at  daybreak  with  all  the 
evidences  of  hard  riding.  Some  days  she  rode  with  him, 
but  when  he  had  not  the  time  or  the  inclination,  the  French 
valet  went  with  her.  A  beautiful  grey  thoroughbred 
called  Silver  Star  was  kept  for  her  use,  and  sometimes 
on  his  back  she  was  able  to  forget  for  a  little  time.  So 
the  moments  of  relaxation  were  less  frequent  than  they 
might  have  been,  and  it  was  only  in  the  evenings  when 
Gaston  had  come  and  gone  for  the  last  time  and  she  was 
alone  with  the  Sheik  that  an  icy  hand  seemed  to  close 
down  over  her  heart.  And,  according  to  his  mood,  he 
noticed  or  ignored  her.  He  demanded  implicit  obedience 
to  his  lightest  whim  with  the  unconscious  tyranny  of  one 
who  had  always  been  accustomed  to  command.  He  ruled 
his  unruly  followers  despotically,  and  it  was  obvious  that 
while  they  loved  him  they  feared  him  equally.  She  had 
even  seen  Yusef,  his  lieutenant,  cringe  from  the  heavy 
scowl  that  she  had,  herself,  learned  to  dread. 

"You  treat  them  like  dogs,"  she  said  to  him  once. 
M  Are  you  not  afraid  that  one  day  they  will  rise  against 
you  and  murder  you  ?  " 

And  he  had  only  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  laughed, 
the  same  low  laugh  of  amusement  that  never  failed  to 
make  her  shiver.' 

The  only  person  whose  devotion  seemed  untinged  w 
any  conflicting  sentiment  was  the  French  valet,  Gaston. 

It  was  the  Sheik's  complete  indifference  to  everything 
beyond  his  own  will,  his  Oriental  egoism,  that  stung  her 
mo?t.    He  treated  her  supplications  and  invectives  with 


94 


THE  SHEIK 


a  like  unconcern.  The  paroxysms  of  wild  rage  that  filled 
her  periodically  made  no  impression  on  him.  He  ac- 
corded them  a  shrug  of  ennui  or  watched  her  with  cold 
curiosity,  his  lips  parted  in  a  little  cruel  smile,  as  if  the 
dissection  of  her  lacerated  feelings  amused  him,  until  his 
patience  was  exhausted,  and  then,  with  one  of  the  lithe, 
quick  movements  that  she  could  never  evade,  his  hands 
would  grip  and  hold  her  and  he  would  look  at  her.  Only 
that,  but  in  the  grasp  of  his  lean,  brown  fingers  and  under 
the  stare  of  his  dark,  fierce  eyes  her  own  would  drop, 
and  the  frantic  words  die  from  her  lips.  She  was  physi- 
cally afraid  of  him,  and  she  hated  him  and  loathed  herself 
for  the  fear  he  inspired.  And  her  fear  was  legitimate. 
His  strength  was  abnormal,  and  behind  it  was  the  law- 
lessness and  absolutism  that  allowed  free  rein  to  his  sav- 
age impulses.    He  held  life  and  death  in  his  hand. 

A  few  days  after  he  had  taken  her  she  had  seen  him 
chastise  a  servant.  She  did  not  know  what  the  man's 
fault  had  been,  but  the  punishment  seemed  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  anything  that  could  be  imagined,  and  she  had 
watched  fascinated  with  horror,  until  he  had  tossed  away 
the  murderous  whip,  and  without  a  second  glance  at  the 
limp,  blood-stained  heap  that  huddled  on  the  ground  with 
suggestive  stillness  had  strolled  back  unconcerned  to  the 
tent.  The  sight  had  sickened  her  and  haunted  her  per- 
petually. His  callousness  horrified  her  even  more  than 
his  cruelty.  She  hated  him  with  all  the  strength  of  her 
proud,  passionate  nature.  His  personal  beauty  even  was 
an  additional  cause  of  offence.  She  hated  him  the  more 
for  his  handsome  face  and  graceful,  muscular  body. 
His  only  redeeming  virtue  in  her  eyes  was  his  total  lack 
of  vanity,  which  she  grudgingly  admitted.    He  was  as 


THE  SHEIK 


95 


unconscious  of  himself  as  was  the  wild  animal  with 
which  she  compared  him. 

"  He  is  like  a  tiger,"  she  murmured  deep  into  the 
cushions,  with  a  shiver,  "  a  graceful,  cruel,  merciless 
beast."  She  remembered  a  tiger  she  had  shot  the  previous 
winter  in  India.  After  hours  of  weary,  cramped  waiting 
in  the  machan  the  beautiful  creature  had  slipped  noise- 
lessly through  the  undergrowth  and  emerged  into  the 
clearing.  He  had  advanced  midway  towards  the  tree 
where  she  was  perched  and  had  stopped  to  listen,  and  the 
long,  free  stride,  the  haughty  poise  of  the  thrown-back 
head,  the  cruel  curl  of  the  lips  and  the  glint  in  the  fero- 
cious eyes  flashing  in  the  moonlight,  were  identical  with 
the  expression  and  carriage  of  the  man  who  was  her 
master.  Then  it  had  been  admiration  without  fear,  and 
she  had  hesitated  at  wantonly  destroying  so  perfect  a 
thing,  until  the  quick  pressure  of  her  shikari's  fingers  on 
her  arm  brought  her  back  to  facts  and  reminded  her  that 
the  "  perfect  thing  n  was  reported  to  have  eaten  a  woman 
the  previous  week.  And  now  it  was  fear  with  a  reluct- 
ant admiration  that  she  despised  herself  for  according. 

A  hand  on  her  shoulder  made  her  start  up  with  a  cry. 
Usually  her  nerves  were  in  better  control,  but  the  thick 
rugs  deadened  every  sound,  and  she  had  not  expected  him 
so  soon.  He  had  been  out  since  dawn  and  had  come  in 
much  past  his  usual  time,  and  had  been,  having  a  belated 
siesta  in  the  adjoining  room. 

Angry  with  herself  she  bit  her  lip  and  pushed  the 
tumbled  hair  off  her  forehead.  He  dropped  on  to  the 
divan  beside  her  and  lit  the  inevitable  cigarette;  he 
smoked  continuously  every  moment  he  was  not  in  the 
saddle.    She  glanced  at  him  covertly.    He  was  lying  with 


96 


THE  SHEIK 


his  head  thrown  back  against  the  cushions,  idly  blowing 
smoke-rings  and  watching  them  drift  towards  the  open 
door-way.  And  as  she  looked  he  yawned  and  turned  to 
her. 

"Zilah  is  careless.  Insist  that  she  puts  away  your 
boots,  and  does  not  leave  your  clothes  lying  on  the  floor. 
There  was  a  scorpion  in  the  bathroom  to-day,"  he  said 
lazily,  stretching  out  his  long  legs. 

She  flushed  hotly,  as  she  always  did  when  he  made  any 
casual  reference  to  the  intimacy  of  their  life.  It  was  his 
casualness  that  frightened  her,  the  carelessly  implied  con- 
tinuance of  a  state  that  scorched  her  with  shame.  His 
attitude  invariably  suggested  a  duration  of  their  relations 
that  left  her  numb  with  a  kind  of  helpless  despair.  He 
was  so  sure  of  himself,  so  sure  of  his  possession  of  her. 

She  felt  the  warm  blood  pouring  over  her  face  now, 
up  to  the  roots  of  her  bright  hair  and  dyeing  her  slender 
neck,  and  she  put  her  hands  up  to  her  head,  her  fingers 
thrust  through  her  loose  curls,  to  shield  her  face  from  his 
eyes. 

She  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  when  Gaston  came  in  bringing 
a  little  tray  with  two  filigree-cased  cups  of  coffee. 

"  I  have  brought  coffee ;  Madame's  tea  is  finished,"  he 
murmured  in  tones  of  deepest  distress,  and  with  a  ges- 
ture that  conveyed  a  national  calamity. 

There  had  been  just  enough  tea  taken  on  the  tour  to 
last  a  month.  It  was  another  pin-prick,  another  reminder. 
She  set  her  teeth,  moving  her  head  angrily,  and  found 
herself  looking  into  a  pair  of  mocking  eyes,  and,  as  al- 
ways, her  own  dropped. 

Gaston  said  a  few  words  in  Arabic  to  his  master,  and 
the  Sheik  swallowed  the  boiling  coffee  and  went  out 


THE  SHEIK 


97 


hastily.  The  valet  moved  about  the  tent  with  his  usual 
deft  noiselessness,  gathering  up  cigarette  ends  and  spent 
matches,  and  tidying  the  room  with  an  assiduous  orderli- 
ness that  was  peculiarly  his  own.  Diana  watched  him 
almost  peevishly.  Was  it  the  influence  of  the  desert  that 
made  all  these  men  cat-like  in  their  movements,  or  was 
the  servant  consciously  or  unconsciously  copying  his  mas- 
ter? With  a  sudden  fit  of  childish  irritability  she  longed 
to  smash  something,  and,  with  an  impetuous  hand,  sent 
the  little  inlaid  table  with  the  tray  and  coffee-cups  flying. 
She  was  ashamed  of  the  impulse  even  before  the  crash 
came,  and  looked  at  Gaston  clearing  up  the  debris  with 
anxious  eyes.  What  was  the  matter  with  her?  The 
even  temper  on  which  she  prided  herself  and  the  nerves 
that  had  been  her  boast  had  vanished,  gone  by  the  board 
in  the  last  month.  If  her  nerve  failed  her  utterly  what 
would  become  of  her  ?    What  would  she  do  ? 

Gaston  had  gone,  and  she  looked  around  the  tent  with 
a  hunted  expression.  There  seemed  no  escape  possible 
from  the  misery  that  was  almost  more  than  she  could 
bear. 

There  was  a  way  out  that  had  been  in  her  mind  often, 
and  she  had  searched  frequently  in  the  hope  that  she 
might  find  the  means.  But  the  Sheik  had  also  thought 
and  had  taken  precautions.  One  day  it  seemed  as  if  her 
desperate  wish  might  be  fulfilled,  and  she  had  had  only  a 
moment's  hesitation  as  she  stretched  oui  her  hand  to  take 
the  revolver  that  had  been  left  lying  on  a  table,  but  as 
her  fingers  closed  on  the  butt  a  muscular  hand  closed 
over  hers.  He  had  come  in  with  his  usual  silent  step  and 
was  close  to  her  without  her  knowing.  He  had  taken 
the  weapon  from  her  quietly,  holding  her  eyes  with  his 


98 


THE  SHEIK 


own,  and  had  jerked  it  open,  showing  the  empty  mag- 
azine. "  Do  you  think  that  I  am  quite  a  fool  ?  "  he  had 
asked  without  a  trace  of  expression  in  his  voice. 

And  since  then  she  had  been  under  a  ceaseless,  unob- 
trusive surveillance  that  had  left  her  no  chance  of  carry- 
ing out  her  terrible  resolve.  She  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands.  "  Oh,  my  God !  Is  it  never  going  to  end?  Am  I 
never  going  to  get  away  from  him?" 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  walked  restlessly  round 
the  tent,  her  hands  clasped  behind  her  back,  her  head 
thrown  up,  and  her  lips  pressed  close  together.  She 
panted  as  if  she  had  been  running,  and  her  eyes  had  a 
far-away,  unseeing  look.  Gradually  she  got  command  of 
herself  again  and  the  nervous  excitement  died  down, 
leaving  her  weary  and  very  desolate.  The  solitude 
seemed  suddenly  horrible.  Anything  would  be  better 
than  the  silent  emptiness  of  the  great  tent.  A  noise  out- 
side attracted  her,  and  she  wandered  to  the  doorway  and 
out  under  the  awning.  Near  her  the  Sheik  with  Gaston 
and  Yusef  stood  watching  a  mad,  ramping  colt  that  was 
being  held  with  difficulty  by  two  or  three  men,  who  clung 
to  him  tenaciously  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  break  away, 
and  beyond  was  a  semi-circle  of  Arabs,  some  mounted  and 
some  on  foot,  leaving  a  wide,  open  space  between  them 
and  the  tent.  They  were  intensely  excited,  talking  and 
gesticulating,  the  mounted  men  riding  round  the  outer 
ring  that  they  fofmed.  Diana  leaned  against  one  of  the 
lances  that  supported  the  awning  and  watched  the  scene 
with  growing  interest.  This  camp  was  many  miles  to  the 
south  of  the  one  to  which  she  had  first  been  brought,  and 
which  had  been  broken  up  a  few  days  after  her  capture. 
The  setting  was  wonderful,  the  far-off  hills  dusky  in  the 


THE  SHEIK 


99 


afternoon  light,  the  clustering  palms  behind  the  tents, 
the  crowd  of  barbaric  figures  in  picturesque,  white  robes, 
the  horsemen  moving  continuously  up  and  down,  and  in 
the  midst  of  everything  the  beautiful,  wild  creature, 
frenzied  by  the  noise,  kicking  and  biting  at  the  men  hold- 
ing him.  After  a  moment  the  Sheik  held  up  his  hand, 
and  a  man  detached  himself  from  the  chattering  crowd 
and  came  to  him  salaaming.  The  Sheik  said  a  few  words, 
and  with  another  salaam  and  a  gleam  of  white  teeth,  the 
man  turned  and  approached  the  struggling  group  in  the 
centre  of  the  ring. 

Diana  straightened  up  with  interest.  The  frantic  colt 
was  going  to  be  broken.  It  was  already  saddled.  Sev- 
eral additional  men  ran  forward,  and  between  them  the 
horse  was  forcibly  held  for  a  moment  —  only  for  a  mo- 
ment, but  it  was  long  enough  for  the  man  who  leaped 
like  a  flash  on  to  his  back.  The  others  fell  away,  racing 
from  the  reach  of  the  terrible  lashing  heels.  Amazed  for 
the  moment  at  the  sudden  unaccustomed  weight,  the  colt 
paused,  and  then  reared  straight  up,  till  it  seemed  to  Diana 
that  he  must  fall  backward  and  crush  the  man  who  was 
clinging  to  him.  But  he  came  down  at  last,  and  for  a  few 
moments  it  was  almost  impossible  to  follow  his  spasmodic 
movements  as  he  strove  to  rid  himself  of  his  rider.  The 
end  came  quickly.  With  a  twisting  heave  of  his  whole 
body  he  shot  the  Arab  over  his  head,  who  landed  with  a 
dull  thud  and  lay  still,  while  the  men  who  had  been  holding 
the  colt  dashed  in  and  secured  him  before  he  was  aware 
of  his  liberty.  Diana  looked  towards  the  fallen  man;  a 
little  crowd  were  gathered  around  him,  and  her  heart  beat 
faster  as  she  thought  that  he  was  dead.  Dead  so  quickly, 
and  only  a  moment  before  he  had  been  so  full  of  life  and 


IOO 


THE  SHEIK 


strength.  Death  meant  nothing  to  these  savages,  she 
thought  bitterly,  as  she  watched  the  limp  body  being  car- 
ried away  by  three  or  four  men,  who  argued  violently 
over  their  burden.  She  glanced  at  the  Sheik.  He  seemed 
perfectly  unconcerned  and  did  not  even  look  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  man  who  had  fallen.  On  the  contrary,  he 
laughed,  and,  turning  to  Yusef,  put  his  hand  on  his  shoul- 
der and  nodded  towards  the  colt.  Diana  gave  a  gasp. 
He  spared  no  one.  He  was  going  to  make  the  young  man 
take  his  chance  as  the  rough-rider  had  taken  his.  She 
knew  that  the  lieutenant  rode  well,  as  did  all  Ahmed  Ben 
Hassan's  followers,  and  that  his  languid  manner  was  only 
a  pose,  but  he  looked  so  young  and  boyish,  and  the  risk 
seemed  enormous.  She  had  seen  colts  broken  before 
many  times,  but  never  a  colt  so  madly  savage  as  this  one. 
But  to  Yusef  the  chance  was  evidently  welcome.  With  an 
answering  laugh,  he  swaggered  out  into  the  arena,  where 
the  men  greeted  him  with  shouts.  There  was  the  same 
procedure  as  before,  and  Yusef  bounded  up  lightly  into 
the  saddle.  This  time,  instead  of  rearing,  the  frightened 
beast  dashed  forward  in  a  wild  effort  to  escape,  but  the 
mounted  men,  closing  up,  headed  him  into  the  middle  of 
the  ring  again,  and  he  went  back  to  his  first  tactics  with 
a  rapidity  that  was  too  much  for  the  handsome  lad  on  his 
back,  and  in  a  few  moments  he  was  thrown  heavily. 
With  a  shrill  scream  the  colt  turned  on  him  open-mouthed, 
and  Yusef  flung  up  one  arm  to  save  his  face.  But  the 
men  reached  him  in  time,  dragging  the  colt  from  him  by 
main  force.  He  rose  to  his  feet  unsteadily  and  limped  to 
the  tents  behind.  Diana  could  not  see  him  easily  for  the 
throng  around  him. 
Again  she  looked  at  the  Sheik  and  ground  her  teeth. 


THE  SHEIK 


101 


He  was  stooping  to  light  a  cigarette  from  a  match  that 
Gaston  was  holding,  and  then  they  walked  together  nearer 
to  the  colt.  The  animal  was  now  thoroughly  maddened, 
and  it  was  increasingly  difficult  to  hold  him.  They  went 
up  close  to  the  struggling,  yelling  grooms,  and  the  next 
minute  Diana  saw  Gaston  sitting  firmly  in  the  empty 
saddle.  The  little  man  rode  magnificently,  and  put  up  a 
longer  fight  than  the  others  had  done,  but  at  last  his  turn 
came,  and  he  went  flying  over  the  colt's  head.  He  came 
down  lightly  on  his  hands  and  knees,  and  scrambled  to 
his  feet  in  an  instant  amidst  a  storm  of  shouts  and  laugh- 
ter. Laughing  himself  he  came  back  to  the  Sheik  with  a 
shrug  of  the  shoulders  and  outspread,  eloquent  hands. 
They  spoke  together  for  a  moment,  too  low  for  Diana  to 
hear,  and  then  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  went  again  into  the 
middle  of  the  ring.  Diana's  breath  came  more  quickly. 
She  guessed  his  intention  before  he  reached  the  colt,  and 
she  moved  forward  from  under  the  awning  and  joined 
Gaston,  who  was  wrapping  his  handkerchief  round  a  torn 
hand. 

"  Monseigneur  will  try  ?  "  she  asked  a  little  breathlessly. 

Gaston  looked  at  her  quickly.    "Try,  Madame?"  he 
repeated  in  a  queer  voice.    "  Yes,  he  will  try." 

Again  the  empty  saddle  was  filled,  and  a  curious  nush  • 
came  over  the  watching  crowd.  Diana  looked  on  with 
bright,  hard  eyes,  her  heart  beating  heavily.  She  longed 
passionately  that  the  colt  might  kill  him,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  illogically,  she  wanted  to  see  him  master  the  infur- 
iated animal.  The  sporting  instinct  in  her  acknowledged 
and  responded  to  the  fight  that  was  going  on  before  her 
eyes.  She  hated  him  and  she  hoped  that  he  might  die, 
but  she  was  forced  to  admire  the  wonderful  horsemanship 


102 


THE  SHEIK 


that  she  was  watching.  The  Sheik  sat  like  a  rock,  and 
every  effort  made  to  unseat  him  was  unsuccessful.  The 
colt  plunged  wildly,  making  furious  blind  dashes  back- 
ward and  forward,  stopping  dead  in  the  hope  of  dis- 
lodging his  rider,  twirling  round  suddenly  until  it  seemed 
impossible  that  he  could  keep  his  feet.  Then  he  started 
rearing,  straight  up,  his  forelegs  beating  the  air,  higher 
and  higher,  and  then  down,  to  commence  again  without 
a  moment's  breathing-space. 

Diana  heard  Gaston's  breath  whistle  through  his  teeth. 
"  Look,  Madame !  "  he  cried  sharply,  and  Diana  saw  the 
Sheik  give  a  quick  glance  behind  him,  and,  as  the  colt 
shot  up  again,  almost  perpendicular,  with  a  jerk  he  pulled 
him  deliberately  over  backwards,  leaping  clear  with  a  tre- 
mendous effort  as  the  horse  crashed  to  the  ground.  He 
was  in  the  saddle  again  almost  before  the  dazed  creature 
had  struggled  to  its  feet.  And  then  began  a  scene  that 
Diana  never  forgot.  It  was  the  final  struggle  that  was 
to  end  in  defeat  for  either  man  or  horse,  and  the  Sheik 
had  decided  that  it  was  not  to  be  for  the  man.  It  was  a 
punishment  of  which  the  untamed  animal  was  never  to 
lose  remembrance.  The  savagery  and  determination  of 
the  man  against  the  mad  determination  of  the  horse.  It 
was  a  hideous  exhibition  of  brute  strength  and  merciless 
cruelty.  Diana  was  almost  sick  with  horror  from  the 
beginning;  she  longed  to  turn  away,  but  her  eyes  clung 
fascinated  to  the  battle  that  was  going  on.  The  hush  that 
had  fallen  on  the  crowd  had  given  way  to  roars  of  excite- 
ment, and  the  men  pressed  forward  eagerly,  to  give  back 
precipitately  when  the  still-fighting  animal's  heels  flashed 
too  near. 

Diana  was  shaking  all  over  and  her  hands  were  clench- 


THE  SHEIK 


103 


ing  and  unclenching  as  she  stared  at  the  man,  who  seemed 
a  part  of  the  horse  he  was  sitting  so  closely.  Would  it 
never  end  ?  She  did  not  care  now  which  killed  the  other 
so  that  it  would  only  stop.  The  man's  endurance  seemed 
mere  bravado.  She  clutched  Gaston's  arms  with  a  hand 
that  was  wringing  wet.  fS  It  is  horrible,"  she  gasped  with 
an  accent  of  loathing. 

"  It  is  necessary,"  he  replied  quietly. 

"  Nothing  can  justify  that,"  she  cried  passionately. 

"Your  pardon,  Madame.  He  must  learn.  He  killed 
a  man  this  morning,  threw  him,  and  what  you  call  in 
English  *  savaged  1  him." 

Diana  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  "  I  can't  bear  it," 
she  said  pitifully. 

A  few  minutes  later  Gaston  clicked  his  tongue  against 
his  teeth.    "  See,  Madame.    It  is  over,"  he  said  gently. 

She  looked  up  fearfully.  The  Sheik  was  standing  on 
the  ground  beside  the  colt,  who  was  swaying  slowly  from 
side  to  side  with  heaving  sides  and  head  held  low  to  the 
earth,  dripping  blood  and  foam.  And  as  she  looked  he 
tottered  and  collapsed  exhausted.  There  was  a  rush  from 
all  sides,  and  Gaston  went  towards  his  master,  who  tow- 
ered above  the  crowd  around  him. 

Diana  turned  away  with  an  exclamation  of  disgust. 
It  was  enough  to  have  seen  a  display  of  such  brutality; 
it  was  too  much  to  stand  by  while  his  fellow-savages  ac- 
claimed him  for  his  cruelty. 

She  went  slowly  back  into  the  tent,  shaken  with  what 
she  had  seen,  and  stood  in  undecided  hesitation  beside  the 
divan.  The  helpless  feeling  that  she  so  often  experi- 
enced swept  over  her  with  renewed  force.  There  was 
nowhere  that  she  could  get  away  from  him,  no  privacy, 


104 


THE  SHEIK 


no  respite.  Day  and  night  she  must  endure  his  presence 
with  no  hope  of  escape.  She  closed  her  eyes  in  a  sudden 
agony,  and  then  stiffened  at  the  sound  of  his  voice  out- 
side. 

He  came  in  laughing,  a  cigarette  dangling  from  one 
blood-stained  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  wiped  the 
perspiration  from  his  forehead,  leaving  a  dull  red  smear. 
She  shrank  from  him,  looking  at  him  with  blazing  eyes. 
"  You  are  a  brute,  a  beast,  a  devil !  I  hate  you ! "  she 
choked  furiously. 

For  a  moment  an  ugly  look  crossed  his  face,  and  then 
he  laughed  again.  "  Hate  me  by  all  means,  ma  belle,  but 
let  your  hatred  be  thorough.  I  detest  mediocrity,"  he 
said  lightly,  as  he  passed  on  into  the  other  room. 

She  sank  down  on  to  the  couch.  She  had  never  felt  so 
desperate,  so  powerless.  She  stared  straight  before  her, 
shivering,  as  she  went  over  the  scene  she  had  just  wit- 
nessed, her  ringers  picking  nervously  at  the  jade-green  silk 
of  her  dress.  She  longed  for  some  power  that  would 
deaden  her  feelings  and  blunt  her  capacity  for  suffering. 
She  looked  at  Gaston  with  hard  eyes  when  he  came  in. 
He  had  approved  of  what  the  Sheik  had  done,  would  have 
done  it  himself  if  he  had  been  able.    They  were  all  alike. 

"  The  man  who  was  hurt  first,"  she  asked  abruptly, 
with  a  touch  of  her  old  hauteur  in  her  voice,  "is  he 
dead?" 

"  Oh  no,  Madame.    He  has  concussion  but  he  will  be 
all  right.    They  have  hard  heads,  these  Arabs." 
.  "AndYusef?" 

Gaston  grinned.  "  Le  petit  Sheik  has  a  broken  collar- 
bone. It  is  nothing.  A  few  days'  holiday  to  be  petted 
in  his  harem,  et  voila ! " 


THE  SHEIK  105 

"  His  harem  ? 99  echoed  Diana  in  surprise.  w  Is  he 
married  ?  99 

"  Mais  out,  Madame.    He  has  two  wives." 

At  Diana's  exclamation  he  shrugged  deprecatingly. 
se  Que  vovilez-vousf  It  is  the  custom  of  the  country,"  he 
said  tolerantly,  with  the  air  of  conceding  a  melancholy 
fact  with  the  best  grace  possible. 

The  customs  of  the  country  was  dangerous  ground,  and 
Diana  changed  the  subject  hastily.  "  Where  did  you  learn 
to  ride,  Gaston?" 

"  In  a  racing-stable  at  Auteuil,  Madame,  when  I  was  a 
boy.  Then  I  was  five  years  in  the  French  cavalry.  Af- 
ter; that  I  came  to  Monseigneur." 

"  And  you  have  been  with  him  —  how  long  ?  99 

"  Fifteen  years,  Madame." 

"  Fifteen  years,"  she  repeated  wonderingly.  "  Fifteen 
years  here,  in  the  desert  ?  " 

"  Here  and  elsewhere,  Madame,"  he  answered  rather 
more  shortly  than  usual,  and  with  a  murmur  of  excuse 
left  the  tent. 

Diana  leaned  back  against  the  cushions  with  a  little 
sigh.  Gaston  need  not  have  been  afraid  that  she  was 
trying  to  learn  his  master's  secrets  from  him.  She  had 
not  fallen  as  low  as  that.  The  mystery  of  the  man  whose 
path  had  crossed  hers  so  terribly  seemed  to  augment  in- 
stead of  lessen  as  the  time  went  on.  What  was  the  power 
in  him  that  compelled  the  devotion  of  his  wild  followers 
and  the  little  French  ex-cavalryman  ?  She  knit  her  fore- 
head in  perplexity  and  was  still  puzzling  over  it  when  he 
came  back.  Immaculate  and  well-groomed  he  was  very 
different  from  the  dishevelled,  bloodstained  savage  of  half- 
an-hour  before.    She  shot  a  nervous  glance  at  him,  re- 


io6 


THE  SHEIK 


membering  her  outburst,  but  he  was  not  angry.  Ht 
looked  grave,  but  his  gravity  seemed  centred  in  himself 
as  he  passed  his  lean  fingers  tenderly  over  his  smooth 
chin.  She  had  seen  Aubrey  do  similarly  hundreds  of 
times.  Occidental  or  Oriental,  men  seemed  very  alike. 
She  waited  for  him  to  speak  and  waited  vainly.  One  of 
the  taciturn  fits  to  which  she  had  grown  accustomed  had 
come  o  er  him  —  hours  sometimes  in  which  he  simply 
ignored  her  altogether.  The  evening  meal  was  silent. 
He  spoke  once  to  Gaston,  but  he  spoke  in  Arabic,  and 
the  servant  replied  only  with  a  nod  of  compliance.  And 
after  Gaston  was  gone  he  did  not  speak  for  a  long  time, 
but  sat  on  the  divan,  apparently  absorbed  in  his  thoughts. 

Restless,  Diana  moved  about  the  tent,  listlessly  exam- 
ining objects  that  she  knew  by  heart,  and  flirting  over  the 
pages  of  the  French  magazines  she  had  read  a  dozen  times. 
Usually  she  was  thankful  for  his  silent  moods.  To-night 
with  a  woman's  perversity  she  wanted  him  to  speak.  She 
was  unstrung,  and  the  utter  silence  oppressed  her.  She 
glanced  over  her  shoulder  at  him  once  or  twice,  but  his 
back  looked  unapproachable.  Yet  when  he  called  her, 
with  a  swift  revulsion  of  feeling,  she  wished  he  had  kept 
silent.  She  went  to  him  slowly.  She  was  too  unnerved 
to-night  to  struggle  against  him.  What  would  be  the  use  ? 
she  thought  wearily;  it  would  only  end  in  defeat  as  it 
always  did.  He  pulled  her  down  on  the  divan  beside  him, 
and  before  she  realised  what  he  was  doing  slipped  a  long 
jade  necklace  over  her  head.  For  a  moment  she  looked 
stupidly  at  the  wonderful  thing,  almost  unique  in  the  pur- 
ity of  its  colour  and  the  marvellous  carving  on  the  uniform 
square  pieces  of  which  it  was  composed,  and  then  with  a 
low  cry  she  tore  it  off  and  flung  it  on  the  ground. 


THE  SHEIK 


107 


"  How  dare  you  ?  "  she  gasped. 

"You  don't  like  it?"  he  asked  in  his  low,  unruffled 
voice,  his  eyebrows  raised  in  real  or  assumed  surprise. 
"  Yet  it  matches  your  dress,"  and  lightly  his  long  fingers 
touched  the  folds  of  green  silk  swathed  across  the  youth- 
ful curve  of  her  breast.  He  glanced  at  an  open  box  filled 
with  shimmering  stones  on  a  low  stool  beside  him. 

"  Pearls  are  too  cold  and  diamonds  too  banal  f  07  you," 
he  said  slowly.  "  You  should  wear  nothing  but  jade. 
It  is  the  colour  of  the  evening  sky  against  the  sunset  of 
your  hair." 

He  had  never  spoken  like  that  to  her  before,  or  used 
that  tone  of  voice.  His  methods  had  been  more  fierce 
than  tender.  She  glanced  up  swiftly  at  his  face,  but  it 
baffled  her.  There  was  no  love  in  his  eyes  or  even  desire, 
nothing  but  an  unusual  gentleness.  "  Perhaps  you  would 
prefer  the  diamonds  and  the  pearls,"  he  went  on,  pointing 
disdainfully  at  the  box. 

"  No,  no.  I  hate  them !  I  hate  them  all !  I  will  not 
wear  your  jewels.  You  have  no  right  to  think  that  I  am 
that  kind  of  woman,"  she  cried  hysterically. 

"You  do  not  like  them?  B on  Dieu!  None  of  the 
other  women  ever  refused  them.  On  the  contrary,  they 
could  never  get  enough,"  he  said  with  a  laugh. 

Diana  looked  up  with  a  startled  glance,  a  look  of  horror 
dawning  in  her  eyes.  "  Other  women  ? "  she  repeated 
blankly. 

"  You  didn't  suppose  you  were  the  first,  did  you?  "  he 
asked  with  brutal  candour.  "  Don't  look  at  me  like  that. 
They  were  not  like  you,  they  came  to  me  willingly  enough 
—  too  willingly.  Allah !  How  they  bored  me !  I  tired 
of  them  before  they  tired  of  me." 


io8 


THE  SHEIK 


She  flung  her  arm  across  her  eyes  with  a  dry  sob, 
straining  away  from  him.  She  had  never  thought  of  that. 
In  the  purity  of  her  mind  it  had  never  occurred  to  her. 
She  was  only  one  of  many,  one  of  a  succession  of  mis- 
tresses, taken  and  discarded  at  his  whim.  She  writhed 
with  the  shame  that  filled  her.  "  Oh,  you  hurt  me !  "  she 
whispered  very  low,  and  then  anger  killed  all  other  feel- 
ing. He  had  loosened  his  arm  about  her  and  she 
wrenched  herself  free  and  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  I  hate 
you,  do  you  understand  ?    I  hate  you !    I  hate  you  !  " 

He  lit  a  cigarette  leisurely  before  answering  and  moved 
into  a  more  comfortable  position  on  the  divan.  "  So  you 
have  already  told  me  this  afternoon,"  he  said  at  length 
coolly,  "  and  with  reiteration  your  remark  becomes  less 
convincing,  ma  cherie." 

Her  anger  ebbed  away.  She  was  too  tired  to  be  angry. 
She  was  humiliated  and  hurt,  and  the  man  before  her  had 
it  in  his  power  to  hurt  her  more,  but  she  was  at  his  mercy 
and  to-night  she  could  not  fight.  She  pushed  the  hair  off 
her  forehead  with  a  heavy  sigh  and  looked  at  the  Sheik's 
long  length  stretched  out  on  the  couch,  the  steely  strength 
of  his  limbs  patent  even  in  the  indolent  attitude  in  which 
he  was  lying,  at  his  brown  handsome  face,  inscrutable  as 
it  always  was  to  her,  and  the  feeling  of  helplessness  came 
back  with  renewed  force  and  with  it  the  sense  of  her  own 
pitiful  weakness  against  his  force,  compelling  her  to  speak. 
"  Have  you  never  felt  pity  for  a  thing  that  was  weaker 
than  yourself?  Have  you  never  spared  anything  or  any 
one  in  all  your  life?  Have  you  nothing  in  your  nature 
but  cruelty?  Are  all  Arabs  hard  like  you?"  she  said 
shakily.  "  Has  love  never  even  made  you  merci- 
ful?" 


THE  SHEIK 


109 


He  glanced  up  at  her  with  a  harsh  laugh,  and  shook  his 
head.  "Love?  Connais  pas!  Yes,  I  do,"  he  added 
with  swift  mockery,  "  I  love  my  horses." 

"  When  you  don't  kill  them,"  she  retorted. 

"  I  am  corrected.    When  I  don't  kill  them." 

There  was  something  in  his  voice  that  made  her  reck- 
less, that  made  her  want  to  hurt  him.  "If  you  give  no 
love  to  the  —  the  women  whom  you  bring  here,  do  you 
give  love  to  the  women  of  your  harem?  You  have  a 
harem,  I  suppose,  somewhere  ? "  she  braved  him  with 
curling  lip  and  scornful  voice,  but  as  she  spoke  she  knew 
that  she  had  only  hurt  herself  and  her  voice  faltered. 

His  hand  reached  out  suddenly  and  he  dragged  her 
down  into  his  arms  again  with  a  laugh.  "  And  if  I  have, 
are  you  jealous?  What  if  the  nights  I  spent  away  from 
you  were  passed  in  my  harem  —  what  then  ?  " 

"  Then  may  Allah  put  it  into  the  heart  of  one  of  your 
wives  to  poison  you  so  that  you  never  come  back,"  she 
said  fiercely. 

"  Allah !  So  beautiful  and  so  bloodthirsty,"  he  said  in 
bantering  reproof.  Then  he  turned  her  face  up  to  his, 
smiling  into  her  angry  eyes  with  amusement.  "  I  have 
no  harem  and,  thanks  be  to  Allah,  no  wives,  cherie. 
Does  that  please  you  ?  " 

Why  should  I  care  ?  It  is  nothing  to  me,"  she  replied 
sharply,  with  a  vivid  blush. 

He  held  her  closer,  looking  deeply  into  her  eyes,  hold- 
ing them  as  he  could  when  he  liked,  in  spite  of  her  efforts 
to  turn  them  away  —  a  mesmerism  she  could  not  resist. 

"  Shall  I  make  you  care  ?  Shall  I  make  you  love  me  ? 
I  can  make  women  love  me  when  I  choose." 

She  went  very  white  and  her  eyes  flickered.    She  knew 


no 


THE  SHEIK 


that  he  was  only  amusing  himself,  that  he  was  utterly  in- 
different to  her  feelings,  that  he  did  not  care  if  she  hated 
or  loved  him,  but  it  was  a  new  form  of  torture  that  was 
more  detestable  than  anything  that  had  gone  before  it. 
It  infuriated  her  that  he  could  even  suggest  that  she 
could  come  to  care  for  him,  that  she  could  ever  look  on 
him  as  anything  but  a  brutal  savage  who  had  committed  a 
hideous  outrage,  that  she  could  ever  have  any  feeling  for 
him  except  hatred  and  loathing.  That  he  should  class 
her  with  the  other  women  he  spoke  of  revolted  her,  she 
felt  degraded,  soiled  as  she  had  never  done  before,  and 
she  had  thought  that  she  had  felt  the  utmost  humiliation 
of  her  position. 

The  colour  rushed  back  into  her  face.  "  I  would  rather 
you  killed  me,"  she  cried  passionately. 

"  So  would  I,"  he  said  drily,  "  for  if  you  loved  me  you 
would  bore  me  and  I  should  have  to  let  you  go.  While 
as  it  is" — he  laughed  softly — "as  it  is  I  do  not  regret 
the  chance  that  took  me  into  Biskra  that  day." 

He  let  her  go  and  got  up  with  a  yawn,  watching  her 
approvingly  as  she  crossed  the  tent.  The  easy  swing  of 
her  boyish  figure  and  the  defiant  carriage  of  her  head 
reminded  him  of  one  of  his  own  thoroughbred  horses. 
She  was  as  beautiful  and  as  wild  as  they  were.  And  as 
he  broke  them  so  would  he  break  her.  She  was  nearly 
tamed  now,  but  not  quite,  and  by  Allah!  it  should  be 
quite!  As  he  turned  his  foot  struck  against  the  jade 
necklace  lying  on  the  rug  where  she  had  thrown  it.  He 
picked  it  up  and  called  her  back.  She  came  reluctantly, 
slowly,  with  mutinous  eyes. 

He  held  out  the  necklace  silently,  and  silently  she  stared 
not  at  it  but  at  him.    Her  heart  began  to  beat  faster,  and 


THE  SHEIK 


in 


the  colour  slowly  left  her  face.  "  Take  it.  I  wish  it,"  he 
said  quietly. 

"  No."    It  was  little  more  than  a  gasp. 

"  You  will  wear  it  to  please  me,"  he  went  on  in  the 
same  soft  voice,  and  the  old  hateful  mockery  crept  into 
his  eyes,  "  to  please  my  artistic  soul.  I  have  an  artistic 
soul  even  though  I  am  only  an  Arab." 

"  I  will  not !  " 

The  mockery  was  wiped  out  of  his  eyes  in  a  flash,  giv- 
ing place  to  the  usual  ferocity,  and  his  forehead  knit  in 
the  dreaded  heavy  scowl.    "  Diane,  obey  me !  " 

She  clenched  her  teeth  on  her  lower  lip  until  a  rim  of 
blood  stained  their  whiteness.  If  he  would  only  shout  or 
bluster  like  the  average  angry  man  she  felt  that  she  could 
brave  him  longer,  but  the  cold  quiet  rage  that  character- 
ised him  always  was  infinitely  more  sinister,  and  paralysed 
her  with  its  silent  force.  She  had  never  heard  him  raise 
his  voice  in  anger  or  quicken  his  usual  slow,  soft  tone,  but 
there  was  an  inflection  that  came  into  his  voice  and  a  look 
that  came  into  his  eyes  that  was  more  terrible  than  any 
outburst.  She  had  seen  his  men  shrink  when,  standing 
near  him,  she  had  barely  been  able  to  hear  what  he  had 
said.  She  had  seen  a  look  from  him  silence  a  clamorous 
quarrel  that  had  broken  out  among  his  followers  too  close 
to  his  own  tent  for  his  pleasure.  .  And  that  inflection  was 
in  his  voice  and  that  look  was  in  his  eyes  now.  It  was 
no  longer  use  to  resist.  The  fear  of  him  was  an  agony. 
She  would  have  to  obey,  as  in  the  end  he  always  forced 
her  to  obey.  She  wrenched  her  eyes  away  from  his  com- 
pelling stare,  her  bosom  heaving  under  the  soft  silk,  her 
chin  quivering,  and  reached  out  blindly  and  took  it  from 
him0   But  the  sudden  chill  of  it  against  her  bare  breast 


112 


THE  SHEIK 


seemed  to  revive  the  courage  that  was  not  yet  dead  in  her. 
She  flung  up  her  head,  the  transient  colour  flaming  into 
her  cheeks,  and  her  lips  sprang  open,  but  he  drew  her  to 
him  swiftly,  and  laid  his  hand  over  her  mouth.  "  I  know, 
I  know,"  he  said  coldly.  "  I  am  a  brute  and  a  beast  and 
a  devil.  You  need  not  tell  me  again.  It  commences  to 
grow  tedious."  His  hand  slipped  to  her  shoulder,  his 
fingers  gripping  the  delicate,  rounded  arm.  "  How  much 
longer  are  you  going  to  fight?  Would  it  not  be  wiser 
after  what  you  have  seen  to-day  to  recognise  that  I  am 
master  ? 99 

"  You  mean  that  you  will  treat  me  as  you  treated  the 
colt  this  afternoon  ?  "  she  whispered,  her  eyes  drawn  back 
irresistibly  to  his  in  spite  of  all  her  efforts. 

"  I  mean  that  you  must  realise  that  my  will  is  law." 

"  And  if  I  do  not?  99  He  guessed  rather  than  heard  the 
words. 

"Then  I  will  teach  you,  and  I  think  that  you  will 
learn  —  soon," 

She  quivered  in  his  hands.  It  was  a  threat,  but  how 
much  of  it  he  meant  to  be  taken  literally  she  did  not  know. 
Again  every  ghastly  detail  of  the  afternoon  passed  with 
lightning  speed  through  her  mind.  When  he  punished 
he  punished  mercilessly.  To  what  lengths  would  he  go? 
The  Arab  standards  were  not  those  of  the  men  amongst 
whom  she  had  lived.  The  position  of  a  woman  in  the 
desert  was  a  very  precarious  one.  There  were  times 
when  she  forgot  altogether  that  he  was  an  Arab  until  some 
chance,  as  now,  drove  the  hard  fact  home  indisputably. 
He  was  an  Arab,  and  as  a  woman  she  need  expect  no 
mercy  at  his  hands.  His  hands!  She  looked  down  for 
a  second  sideways  at  the  fingers  gripping  her  shoulder 


THE  SHEIK 


113 


and  she  saw  them  again  stained  with  blood,  saw  them 
clenched  round  the  dripping  thong.  She  knew  already  by 
bitter  experience  the  iron  grip  of  his  lean  fingers  and  the 
compelling  strength  of  his  arms.  Her  quick  imagination 
leaped  ahead.  What  she  had  already  suffered  would  be 
nothing  compared  with  what  would  be.  The  remem- 
brance of  the  stained,  huddled  figure  of  the  servant  he  had 
chastised  rose  before  her.  And  as  she  battled  with  her- 
self, still  torn  in  her  passionate  desire  to  make  her  strong 
will  and  courageous  spirit  triumph  over  her  coward 
woman's  body  that  shrank  instinctively  from  physical  tor- 
ture, his  arm  tightened  around  her  and  she  felt  the  hard 
muscles  pressing  against  her  shoulders  and  soft,  bare 
neck,  a  suggestion  of  the  force  lying  dormant  beside  her. 
She  looked  up  at  him  slowly. 

His  expression  was  unchanged,  his  forehead  was  still 
drawn  together  in  the  heavy  frown  and  there  was  no 
softening  in  his  eyes.  The  cruel  lines  about  his  mouth 
were  accentuated  and  the  tiger-look  in  his  face  was  more 
marked  than  ever.  He  was  not  threatening  idly ;  he  meant 
what  he  said. 

"  You  had  better  kill  me,"  she  said  drearily. 

"  That  would  be  to  admit  my  own  defeat,"  he  replied 
coolly.  "  I  do  not  kill  a  horse  until  I  have  proved  beyond 
all  possible  doubt  that  I  cannot  tame  it.  With  you  I  have 
no  such  proof.  I  can  tame  you  and  I  will.  But  it  is  for 
you  to  choose  and  to  choose  to-night  if  you  will  obey  me 
willingly  or  if  I  must  make  you.  I  have  been  very  pa- 
tient —  for  me,"  he  added,  with  an  odd  smile  flitting 
across  his  face,  "but  my  patience  is  exhausted.  Choose 
quickly."  Insensibly  he  drew  her  closer  to  him  till  his 
arm  felt  like  an  inflexible  steel  band  about  her,  and  she 


ii4 


THE  SHEIK 


thought  with  a  shudder  of  the  coils  of  a  great  serpent 
closing  round  its  victim.  She  made  a  final  effort  to  con- 
quer herself,  but  between  her  and  the  broad  chest  so  close 
to  her  she  seemed  to  see  a  horse's  head  held  low  in  agony, 
blood  and  foam  dripping  from  his  lacerated  mouth,  and  a 
horse's  flanks  heaving  piteously,  torn  with  the  cruel  pun- 
ishment he  had  undergone.  A  sudden  nausea  came  over 
her,  everything  seemed  to  swim  before  her  eyes,  and  she 
swayed  against  the  man  who  was  holding  her.  Her  bodily 
fear  overruled  her  mind.    She  could  not  bear  any  more. 

"  I  will  obey  you,"  she  whispered  heavily. 

He  took  her  chin  in  his  fingers  and  jerked  her  head  up 
sharply,  staring  at  her  intently  until  she  felt  he  was  look- 
ing into  her  very  soul.  The  heavy  scowl  smoothed  away 
but  the  fierceness  lingered  in  his  eyes.  "  Good !  "  he  said 
at  length  briefly.  "  You  are  wise,"  he  added  significantly. 
He  tilted  her  head  further  back,  bending  his  own  down 
until  his  lips  were  nearly  touching  hers.  She  shivered 
involuntarily,  an  anguished  appeal  leaping  into  her  eyes. 
He  smiled  ironically.  "  Do  you  hate  them  so  much,  my 
kisses  ?  " 

She  swallowed  convulsively. 

"  You  are  at  least  candid  if  you  are  not  compliment- 
ary ; "  and  with  that  he  released  her  and  turned  away. 

She  reached  the  curtain  that  divided  the  two  rooms,  her 
heart  beating  wildly,  giddy  with  the  strain  that  she  had 
gone  through.  She  paused  a  moment  and  looked  back  at 
him,  amazed  at  her  own  temerity.  He  had  unbuttoned  the 
flap  of  the  tent  and  was  standing  in  the  entrance  looking 
out  into  the  night.  The  scent  of  the  peculiar  tobacco  he 
used  drifted  to  her  with  the  draught  from  the  open  door. 
Her  eyes  grew  puzzled.    Would  she  ever  understand 


THE  SHEIK 


ii5 


him?  To-night  he  had  given  her  a  choice  instead  of  sim- 
ply enforcing  his  will,  he  had  made  her  choose  to  save 
herself,  he  had  proved  his  determination  and  his  mastery 
over  her.  And  with  his  last  words  the  unexpected  gen- 
tleness had  come  into  his  voice  again  and  the  cruel  lines 
about  his  mouth  had  relaxed  in  a  smile  of  amusement.  It 
was  the  swift  transition  from  ferocity  to  gentleness  that 
she  could  never  fathom.  His  complex  nature  was  beyond 
her  understanding.  She  would  not  try  to  understand 
him;  she  could  never  know  the  depths  of  his  baffling 
personality.  She  only  knew  that  for  some  reason  of  his 
own  he  had  spared  her,  and  she  feared  him  more  than 
ever. 


CHAPTER  V 


Under  the  awning  of  the  tent  Diana  was  waiting  for- 
Gaston  and  the  horses,  pulling  on  her  thick  riding-gloves 
nervously.  She  was  wrought  up  to  the  utmost  pitch  of 
excitement.  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had  been  away  since  the 
previous  day  and  it  was  uncertain  if  he  would  return 
that  night  or  the  next.  He  had  been  vague  as  to  how 
long  he  would  be  absent.  There  had  been  a  constant 
coming  and  going  amongst  his  followers  —  messengers 
arriving  on  exhausted  horses  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and 
night,  and  the  Sheik  himself  had  seemed  unusually  pre- 
occupied. He  had  not  condescended  to  Tive  any  reason 
for  the  special  activity  of  his  people  and  she  had  not 
asked  him. 

In  ..ak  four  weeks  that  had  elapsed  since  she  had  pro- 
mised him  her  obedience  she  had  been  very  silent.  The 
fear  and  hatred  of  him  grew  daily.  She  had  learned  to 
stifle  the  wild  fits  of  rage  and  the  angry  words  that 
leaped  to  her  lips.  She  had  learned  to  obey  —  a  reluctant 
obedience  given  with  compressed  lips  and  defiant  eyes, 
but  given,  and  with  a  silence  that  surprised  even  herself. 
Day  after  day  she  had  followed  the  usual  routine,  dumb 
unless  he  spoke  to  her;  and  with  his  own  attention  occu- 
pied with  matters  beyond  the  four  walls  of  his  tent  he 
had  not  noticed  or  did  not  trouble  to  heed  her  silence. 
Lately  he  had  left  her  very  much  alone ;  she  had  ridden 
with  him  almost  daily  until  the  last  week,  when  he  had 
116 


THE  SHEIK 


117 


announced  curtly  that  in  the  meantime  the  length  of  her 
rides  must  be  curtailed  and  that  Gaston  would  accompany 
her.  He  had  not  offered  any  explanation,  and  she  had 
not  sought  one.  She  had  chosen  to  see  in  it  merely 
another  act  of  tyranny  imposed  on  her  by  the  man  whose 
arbitrary  exercise  of  power  over  her  and  whose  tacit 
possession  of  her  galled  her  continually.  And  under  the 
sullen  submission  a  wild  fury  of  revolt  was  raging.  She 
searched  feverishly  for  means  of  flight,  and  now  the 
Sheik's  absence  seemed  to  have  given  her  the  chance  she 
had  been  waiting  for.  In  the  solitude  of  the  previous 
night  she  had  tossed  impatiently  from  side  to  side  of  the 
big  couch,  vainly  trying  to  find  some  means  of  taking 
advantage  of  her  comparative  freedom  to  effect  her  es- 
cape. Surely  she  could  find  some  way  of  avoiding  Gas- 
ton's vigilance.  Excitement  had  kept  her  awake  half  the 
night,  and  in  the  morning  she  had  had  hard  work  to  keep 
her  agitation  hidden  and  to  appear  as  usual.  She  had 
even  been  afraid  to  order  the  horses  any  earlier  in  her 
nervous  terror  lest  the  valet  should  suspect  there  y,  ;is  any 
reason  behind  the  simple  request.  After  her  petit 
dejeuner  she  had  paced  the  tent,  unable  to  sit  still,  dread- 
ing lest  any  moment  might  bring  the  return  of  the  Sheik 
and  frustrate  her  hopes.  She  looked  back  into  the  room 
with  a  shudder  as  her  eyes  travelled  over  the  luxurious 
appointments  and  different  objects  that  had  become  so 
curiously  familiar  in  the  last  two  months.  The  unex- 
pected equipments  and  the  man's  own  baffling  personality 
would  remain  in  her  recollection  always  as  an  enigma 
that  she  would  never  be  able  to  solve.  So  much  had  been 
so  inexplicable  in  himself  and  in  his  mode  of  life.  She 
drew  a  long  breath  and  went  out  hastily  into  the  sunshine. 


THE  SHEIK 


The  horses  were  waiting,  and  Gaston  was  standing 
ready  to  hold  her  stirrup.  She  fondled  the  beautiful  grey 
horse's  soft  nose  and  patted  his  satiny  neck  with  a  hand 
that  trembled  a  little.  She  loved  the  horse  and  to-day  he 
should  be  the  means  of  saving  her.  He  responded  to  her 
caresses,  gentling  her  with  slobbering  mouth  and  whinny- 
ing softly.  With  one  last  look  at  the  big  double  tent  and 
the  rest  of  the  camp  behind  it  she  mounted  and  rode  away 
without  another  backward  glance.  She  had  to  exercise 
a  rigid  control  over  herself.  She  longed  to  put  Silver 
Star  into  a  hand  gallop  at  once  and  shake  off  Gaston,  but 
she  was  still  too  near  the  camp.  She  must  be  patient 
and  put  a  certain  number  of  miles  between  herself  and 
the  possibility  of  pursuit  before  she  attempted  anything. 
Too  early  an  endeavour  would  only  bring  the  whole 
horde  in  wild  chase  at  her  heels.  The  thought  of  the 
promise  she  had  given  to  the  man  from  whom  she  was 
flying  came  back  to  her.  She  had  promiseji  obedience, 
but  she  had  not  promised  that  she  would  not  try  to 
escape,  and,  if  she  had,  no  promise  wrung  from  her  by 
fear  was  valid  in  her  opinion. 

She  rode  steadily  forward  at  a  slow,  swinging  canter, 
instinctively  saving  her  horse,  plan  after  plan  passing 
through  her  brain  to  be  rejected  as  impracticable.  Silver 
Star  fretted  continually  at  the  moderate  pace,  tossing  his 
head  and  catching  at  his  bit.  She  took  no  heed  of  the 
time  beyond  the  fact  that  it  was  passing  quickly,  and 
that  if  anything  was  to  be  done  it  must  be  done  as  soon 
as  possible.  But  Gaston,  riding  a  few  paces  behind  her, 
was  very  much  alive  to  the  hour  and  had  looked  several 
times  at  his  watch.  He  ranged  alongside  of  her  now 
with   a   murmured   apology.    "  Pardon,   Madame.  It 


THE  SHEIK 


grows  late,"  and  submitted  his  wrist  watch  for  her  in- 
spection. 

Diana  glanced  mechanically  at  her  own  wrist  and  then 
remembered  that  she  had  broken  her  watch  the  day  before. 
She  pulled  up,  and  tilting  her  helmet  back  mopped  her 
hot  forehead,  and,  as  she  did  so,  a  sharp  breeze  sprang 
up,  the  curious  wind  that  comes  and  goes  so  rapidly  in  the 
desert.  An  idea  flashed  into  her  mind.  It  was  a  poor 
chance,  but  it  might  succeed.  She  shot  a  glance  at  Gas- 
ton. He  was  looking  in  the  opposite  direction,  and,  rais- 
ing her  hand,  she  fluttered  her  handkerchief  a  moment  in 
the  breeze  and  then  let  it  go.  The  wind  carried  it  some 
distance  away.  She  gave  a  little  cry  and  caught  at  the 
bridle  of  the  valet's  horse. 

"  Oh,  Gaston,  my  handkerchief ! 99  and  pointed  to  where 
the  morsel  of  cambric  lay  white  against  a  rock.  With  a 
comical  exclamation  of  dismay  he  slipped  to  the  ground 
and  started  to  run  across  the  sand. 

She  waited  until  he  had  got  well  on  his  way,  sitting 
tense  with  shining  eyes  and  thumping  heart,  then,  snatch- 
ing off  her  helmet,  she  brought  it  down  with  a  resounding 
smack  on  the  hindquarters  of  the  servant's  horse,  stam- 
peding it  in  the  direction  of  the  camp,  and,  wheeling  Silver 
Star,  headed  for  the  north,  deaf  to  Gaston's  cries. 

Wild  with  excitement  and  free  to  go  his  own  pace  at 
last  her  mount  galloped  swiftly  and  the  wind  whistled 
past  Diana's  ears.  To  the  possible  fate  of  the  little 
Frenchman  left  on  foot  so  far  from  the  encampment  she 
gave  no  heed.  For  the  moment  she  did  not  even  think  of 
him,  she  had  no  thought  for  anybody  but  herself.  Her 
ruse  by  its  very  simplicity  had  succeeded.  She  was  free 
and  she  did  not  care  about  anything  else.    She  had  no 


120 


THE  SHEIK 


plans  or  ideas  what  she  should  do  or  where  she  should 
go  beyond  the  fact  that  she  would  keep  riding  northward. 
She  had  vague  hopes  that  she  might  fall  in  with  friendly 
Arabs  who,  for  a  promised  reward,  would  guide  her  to 
civilisation.  Most  of  them  could  speak  a  little  French, 
and  for  the  rest  her  small  stock  of  Arabic  must  do.  She 
knew  that  she  was  mad  to  attempt  to  ride  across  the  desert 
alone,  but  she  did  not  mind.  She  was  free.  She  was 
too  excited  to  think  coherently.  She  laughed  and  shouted 
like  a  mad  thing  and  her  madness  communicated  itself  to 
the  grey,  who  was  going  at  racing  speed.  Diana  knew 
that  he  was  out  of  control,  that  she  could  not  stop  him  if 
she  tried,  but  she  did  not  want  to  try,  the  faster  the  better. 
In  time  he  would  tire  himself,  but  until  then  let  him  go 
as  he  pleased.  She  was  fast  putting  miles  between  her- 
self and  the  camp  that  had  been  a  prison,  between  herself 
and  the  brute  who  had  dared  to  do  what  he  had  done. 
At  the  thought  of  the  Sheik  a  sick  feeling  of  fear  ran 
through  her.  If  anything  should  happen?  If  he  should 
catch  her  again?  She  shuddered,  and  a  cry  burst  from 
her  lips,  but  she  gripped  herself  at  once.  She  was  idiotic, 
contemptible ;  it  was  impossible.  It  would  be  hours,  per- 
haps even  the  next  day,  before  the  alarm  was  given;  he 
would  not  know. in  what  direction  she  had  gone.  She 
would  have  miles  of  start  on  one  of  the  fleetest  of  his 
horses.  She  tried  to  put  him  out  of  her  mind.  She  had 
escaped  from  him  and  his  cruelty,  it  was  a  nightmare  that 
was  over.  The  effects  would  remain  with  her  always,  noth- 
ing would  ever  be  the  same  again,  but  the  daily  dread,  the 
daily  contamination  would  be  gone,  the  helpless  tortured 
feeling,  the  shame  of  submission  that  had  filled  her  with 
an  acute  self-loathing  that  was  as  intense  as  her  passionate 


THE  SHEIK 


121 


hatred  of  the  man  who  had  forced  her  to  endure  his  will. 
The  memory  of  it  would  live  with  her  for  ever.  He  had 
made  her  a  vile  thing.  Her  cheeks  scorched  with  the 
thought  and  she  shivered  at  the  remembrance  of  ail  that 
she  had  gone  through.  She  had  been  down  into  the 
depths  and  she  would  carry  the  scars  all  her  life.  The 
girl  who  had  started  out  so  triumphantly  from  Biskra  had 
become  a  woman  through  bitter  knowledge  and  humiliat- 
ing experience. 

The  pace  was  less  killing  now.  Silver  Star  had  settled 
down  into  the  steady  tireless  gallop  for  which  Ahmed 
Ben  Hassan's  horses  were  famous.  The  little  breeze  had 
died  awav  as  quickly  as  it  had  sprung  up,  and  it  was 
very  hot.  Diana  looked  about  her  with  glowing  eyes. 
Everything  seemed  different.  From  the  first  she  had 
loved  the  desert,  but  back  of  everything  and  mingled  with 
everything  had  been  the  feeling  of  fear,  the  continual 
restraint,  the  perpetual  subservience  to  the  whims  of  her 
captor  which  had  dominated  everything.  But  now  the 
whole  aspect  was  changed.  She  loved  the  endless,  un- 
dulating expanse  stretching  out  before  her,  and  as  the 
grey  topped  each  rise  her  interest  grew  keener.  What 
might  not  be  behind  the  next  one  ?  For  an  hour  or  more 
the  ground  rose  and  fell  in  monotonous  succession,  and 
then  the  desert  grew  level  again  and  quite  suddenly  she 
could  see  for  miles.  About  two  miles  away  a  few  palm 
trees  showed  clustering  together,  and  Diana  turned  in 
their  direction.  They  probably  meant  a  well,  and  it  was 
time  she  rested  her  horse  and  herself.  It  was  the  tiniest 
little  oasis,  and  she  drew  rein  and  dismounted  with  fears 
for  the  weU  she  had  hoped  to  find.  But  there  was  one, 
very  much  silted  up,  and  she  set  to  work  to  clear  it  as 


122 


THE  SHEIK 


well  as  she  could  to  procure  enough  for  herself  and  Silver 
Star,  who  was  frantically  trying  to  get  to  the  water.  It 
was  exhausting  work,  but  she  managed  to  satisfy  the  grey, 
and,  having  unloosed  his  girths,  she  flung  herself  down 
on  the  ground  in  a  small  patch  of  shade.  She  lit  a 
cigarette  and  lay  flat  on  her  back  with  her  helmet  over  her 
eyes. 

For  the  first  time  since  she  had  shaken  off  Gaston  she 
began  to  think  seriously.  What  she  had  done  was  mad- 
ness. She  had  no  food  for  herself  or  her  horse,  no 
water,  and  Heaven  alone  knew  where  the  next  well  might 
be.  She  was  alone  in  an  uncivilised  country  among  a 
savage  people  with  no  protection  of  any  kind.  She  might 
fall  in  with  friendly  Arabs  or  she  might  not.  She  might 
come  across  an  encampment,  or  she  might  wander  for 
days  and  see  no  one,  in  which  case  death  from  hunger  and 
thirst  stared  her  in  the  face.  What  would  she  do  when 
night  came?  With  a  sharp  cry  she  leaped  to  her  feet. 
What  was  she  to  do?  She  looked  all  around  the  little 
oasis  with  startled  eyes,  at  the  few  palm  trees  and  clumps 
of  camel  thorn,  the  broken  well  and  the  grey  horse  still 
snuffing  about  its  mouth.  She  felt  frightened  for  the  first 
time;  she  was  alone  and  about  her  was  unending  space, 
and  she  felt  an  atom,  insignificant,  the  least  of  all  things. 
She  looked  up  into  the  clear  sky  and  the  blue  vastness 
appalled  her. 

Then  the  sudden  panic  to  which  she  had  given  way 
subsided  and  her  courage  rose  with  a  bound.  It  was  only 
midday,  anything  might  happen  between  then  and  night- 
fall. Of  one  thing  only  she  was  sure,  she  did  not  repent 
of  what  she  had  done.  Behind  her  was  Ahmed  Ben 
Hassan  and  before  her  was  possibly  death,  i  id  death  was 


THE  SHEIK 


123 


preferable.  She  was  quite  calm  again  and  lay  down  in  the 
patch  of  shade  once  more  with  a  resolute  determination  to 
mind.  Time  to  think  of  them  when  they  came.  For  the 
next  hour  or  two  she  must  rest  and  escape  the  intense 
heat.  She  rolled  over  on  her  face  with  her  head  in  her 
arms  and  tried  to  sleep,  but  she  was  too  excited,  and  soon 
gave  up  the  attempt.  And  in  any  case,  she  argued  with 
herself,  she  might  sleep  too  long  and  lose  precious  time. 
She  stretched  luxuriously  on  the  soft  ground,  thankful  for 
the  shade  from  the  burning  sun.  The  grey,  tired  of 
nosing  round  the  well  and  blowing  disdainfully  at  the 
thorn  bushes,  wandered  over  to  her  side  and  nozzled  her 
gently.  She  caught  at  his  velvety  nose  and  drew  it  down 
beside  her  face.  He  was  a  very  affectionate  beast  and 
gentler  than  most  of  the  other  horses,  and  he  pressed 
close  up  to  her,  whinnying  softly  and  looking  at  her  with 
large  expressive  eyes.  "  I  haven't  anything  to  give  you, 
poor  old  boy,"  she  said  regretfully,  kissing  his  muzzle  and 
then  pushing  him  away  from  her.  She  looked  up  again 
into  the  sky,  a  dark  speck  sailed  overhead,  the  slow  heavy 
flight  of  a  vulture.  In  a  few  hours  he  might  be  picking 
her  bones !  Merciful  Heavens !  Why  did  such  thoughts 
come  into  her  head?  Had  she  nothing  left  of  the  courage 
that  had  once  been  second  nature?  If  she  let  her  nerves 
get  the  upper  hand  she  might  as  well  make  no  further 
effort,  but  lie  down  and  die  at  once.  With  shaking  fingers 
she  took  another  cigarette;  smoking  would  soothe  her. 
Yet  she  hesitated  before  she  lit  it ;  there  were  only  a  few 
left  and  her  need  might  still  be  greater.  But  with  a  reck- 
less laugh  she  snapped  the  thin  case  to,  and  carefully 
scraped  the  evil-smelling  sulphur  match  torn  from  a  flat 
wood  strip.    She  settled  herself  comfortably  again  full 


124 


THE  SHEIK 


length.  All  around  her  were  the  innumerable  tiny  noises 
of  the  desert,  the  hum  of  countless  insect  life,  the  rustling 
of  the  sand  and  the  occasional  dry  crackle  of  the  camel 
thorns  made  by  the  slipping  of  a  twig  or  the  displacing  of 
a  branch,  sounds  that  would  have  been  incomprehensible 
some  weeks  before.  For  a  few  minutes  a  sand  spider 
attracted  her  attention  and  she  watched  his  hurried  pains- 
taking operations  with  wondering  interest.  Gradually  a 
drowsy  feeling  stole  over  her  and  she  realised  suddenly 
that  the  air  was  impregnated  with  the  scent  of  the  tobacco 
that  was  always  associated  with  the  Sheik.  It  was  one 
of  his  cigarettes  that  she  was  smoking.  She  had  always 
been  powerfully  affected  by  the  influence  of  smell,  which 
induced  recollection  with  her  to  an  extraordinary  degree, 
and  now  the  uncommon  penetrating  odour  of  the  Arab's 
cigarettes  brought  back  all  that  she  had  been  trying  to 
put  out  of  her  mind.  With  a  groan  she  flung  it  away  and 
buried  her  face  in  her  arms.  The  past  rose  up,  and 
rushed,  uncontrolled,  through  her  brain.  Incidents 
crowded  into  her  recollection,  memories  of  headlong  gal- 
lops across  the  desert  riding  beside  the  man  who,  while 
she  hated  him,  compelled  her  admiration,  memories  of 
him  schooling  the  horses  that  he  loved,  sitting  them  like  a 
centaur,  memories  of  him  amongst  his  men,  memories 
more  intimately  connected  with  herself,  of  his  varying 
moods,  his  swift  changes  from  savage  cruelty  to  amazing 
gentleness,  from  brutal  intolerance  to  sudden  considera- 
tion. There  had  even  been  times  when  he  had  interested 
her  despite  herself,  and  she  had  forgotten  the  relation- 
ship in  which  they  stood  towards  each  other  in  listening 
to  his  deep,  slow  voice,  till  a  word  or  a  gesture  brought 
back  the  fact  vividly.    Memories  of  moments  when  she 


THE  SHEIK 


125 


had  struggled  against  his  caresses,  and  he  had  mocked  her 
helplessness  with  his  great  strength,  when  she  had  lain 
in  his  arms  panting  and  exhausted,  cold  with  fear  and 
shrinking  from  his  fierce  kisses.  She  had  feared  him  as 
she  had  never  believed  it  possible  to  fear.  His  face  rose 
before  her  clearly  with  all  the  expressions  she  had  learned 
to  know  and  dread.  She  tried  to  banish  it,  striving  with 
all  her  might  to  put  him  from  her  mind,  twisting  this 
way  and  that,  writhing  on  the  soft  sand  as  she  struggled 
with  the  obsession  that  held  her.  She  saw  him  all  the 
time  plainly,  as  though  he  were  there  before  her.  Would 
he  pursue  her  always,  phantom-like?  Would  the  recol- 
lection of  the  handsome  brown  face  haunt  her  for  ever 
with  its  fierce  eyes  and  cruel  mouth?  She  buried  her 
head  deeper  in  her  arms,  but  the  vision  persisted  until 
with  a  scream  she  started  up  with  heaving  chest  and  wild 
eyes,  standing  rigid,  staring  towards  the  south  with  a 
desperate  fixedness  that  made  her  eyeballs  ache.  The 
sense  of  his  presence  had  been  terribly  real.  She  dropped 
on  to  the  ground  again  with  an  hysterical  laugh,  and 
pushed  the  thick  hair  off  her  forehead  wearily.  Silver 
Star  laying  his  muzzle  suddenly  on  her  shoulder  made  her 
start  again  violently  with  heavy,  beating  heart.  A  fright- 
ened look  went  across  her  face.  "  I'm  nervous,"  she 
muttered,  looking  round  with  a  little  shiver.  "  I  shall  go 
mad  if  I  stay  here  much  longer."  The  little  oasis  that 
she  had  hailed  so  joyfully  had  become  utterly  repugnant 
and  she  was  impatient  to  get  away  from  it.  She  climbed 
eagerly  into  the  saddle,  and,  with  the  rapid  motion,  she 
regained  her  calm  and  her  spirits  rose  quickly. 

She  shook  off  the  feeling  of  apprehension  that  had 
take.*,  hold  of  her  and  her  nervous  fears  died  away.  A 


126 


THE  SHEIK 


reckless  feeling,  like  the  excitement  of  the  morning,  came 
over  her,  and  she  urged  the  grey  on  with  coaxing  words, 
and  responding  to  her  voice,  and  hardly  feeling  her  light 
weight,  he  raced  on  untiringly.  All  around  was  silence 
and  a  solitude  that  was  stupendous.  The  vast  emptiness 
was  awe-inspiring.  The  afternoon  was  wearing  away; 
already  it  was  growing  cooler.  Diana  had  seen  no  sign 
of  human  life  since  she  had  left  Gaston  hours  before 
and  a  little  feeling  of  anxiety  stirred  faintly  deep  down  in 
her  heart.  Traces  of  caravans  she  passed  several  times, 
and  from  the  whitening  bones  of  dead  camels  she  turned 
her  head  in  aversion  —  they  were  too  intimately  sug- 
gestive. She  had  seen  a  few  jackals,  and  once  a  hyena 
lumbered  away  clumsily  among  some  rocks  as  she  passed. 
She  had  got  away  from  the  level  desert,  and  was  threading 
her  way  in  and  out  of  some  low  hills,  which  she  felt  were 
taking  her  out  of  her  right  course.  She  was  steering  by 
the  setting  sun,  which  had  turned  the  sky  into  a  glory  of 
golden  crimson,  but  the  intricate  turnings  amongst  the 
rocky  hills  were  bewildering.  The  low,  narrow  defile 
seemed  hemming  her  in,  menacing  her  on  all  sides,  and 
she  was  beginning  to  despair  of  finding  her  way  out  of 
the  labyrinth,  when,  on  rounding  a  particularly  sharp 
turn,  the  rocks  fell  away  suddenly  and  she  rode  out  into 
open  country.  She  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  and  called 
out  cheerily  to  the  grey,  but,  as  she  looked  ahead,  her 
voice  died  away,  and  she  reined  him  in  sharply  with  a 
quickening  heart-beat.  Across  the  desert  about  a  mile 
away  she  saw  a  party  of  Arabs  coming  towards  her. 
There  were  about  fifty  of  them,  the  leader  riding  a  big, 
black  horse  some  little  distance  in  front  of  his  followers. 
In  the  clear  atmosphere  they  seemed  nearer  thnn  +hey 


THE  SHEIK 


127 


were.  It  was  not  what  she  wished.  She  had  hoped  for 
an  encampment,  where  there  would  be  women  or  a  car- 
avan of  traders  whose  constant  communication  with  the 
towns  would  make  them  realise  the  importance  of  guid- 
ing her  to  civilisation  unharmed.  This  band  of  fighting 
men,  for  she  could  see  their  rifles  clearly,  and  their  close 
and  orderly  formation  was  anything  but  peaceful,  filled 
her  with  the  greatest  misgivings.  Only  the  worst  might 
be  expected  from  the  wild,  lawless  tribesmen  towards  a 
woman  alone  amongst  them.  She  had  fled  from  one 
hideousness  to  another  which  would  be  ten  times  more 
horrible.  Her  face  blanched  and  she  set  her  teeth  in 
desperation.  The  human  beings  she  had  prayed  for  were 
now  a  deadly  menace,  and  she  prayed  as  fervently  that 
they  might  pass  on  and  not  notice  her.  Perhaps  it  was 
not  too  late,  perhaps  they  had  not  not  yet  seen  her  and  she 
might  still  slip  away  and  hide  in  the  twisting  turnings  of 
the  defile.  She^  backed  Silver  Star  further  into  the 
shadow  of  the  rock,  but  as  she  did  so  she  saw  that  she 
had  been  seen.  The  leader  turned  in  his  saddle  and 
raised  his  hand  high  above  his  head,  and  with  a  wild  shout 
and  a  great  cloud  of  dust  and  sand  his  men  checked  their 
horses,  dragging  them  back  on  to  their  haunches,  while  he 
galloped  towards  her  alone.  And  at  the  same  moment  an 
icy  hand  clutched  at  Diana's  heart  and  a  moan  burst  from 
her  lips.  There  was  no  mistaking  him  or  the  big  black 
horse  he  rode.  For  a  moment  she  reeled  with  a  sudden 
faintness,  and  then  with  a  tremendous  efrort  she  pulled 
herself  together,  dragging  her  horse's  head  round  and 
urged  him  back  along  the  track  which  she  had  just  left, 
and  behind  her  raced  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan,  spurring  the 
great,  black  stallion  as  he  had  never  done  before.  With 


128  THE  SHEIK 

ashy  face  and  wild,  hunted  eyes  Diana  crouched  forward  j 
on  the  grty's  neck,  saving  him  all  she  could  and  riding 

as  she  had  never  ridden  in  her  life.    Utterly  reckless,  she  1 

urged  the  horse  to  his  utmost  pace,  regardless  of  the  1 

rough,  dangerous  track.    Perhaps  she  could  still  shake  j 

off  her  pursuer  among  the  tortuous  paths  of  the  hills.  | 

Nothing  mattered  but  that.    Better  even  an  ugly  toss  l| 

and  a  broken  neck  than  that  he  should  take  her  again.  | 

Panic-stricken  she  wanted  to  shriek  and  clenched  her  teeth  | 

on  her  lips  to  keep  back  the  scream  that  rose  in  her  throat,  ij 

She  dared  not  look  behind,  but  straight  ahead  before  her,  j 
riding  with  all  her  skill,  hauling  the  grey  round  perilous 

corners  and  bending  lower  and  lower  in  the  saddle  to  j 

aid  him.    In  her  terror  she  had  forgotten  what  a  little  | 

distance  the  hills  stretched  from  where  she  had  entered  J 
them,  and  blindly  she  turned  into  the  track  by  which  she 

had  come,  leaving  the  main  hills  on  her  right  hand  and  j 

emerging  on  to  the  open  desert  on  the  south  side  of  the  [ 
range.    There  was  nothing  now  but  the  sheer  speed  of 

her  horse  to  save  her,  and  how  long  could  she  count  on  i 

it?  Then  with  a  little  glimmer  of  hope  she  remembered  ' 
that  the  Sheik  was  riding  The  Hawk,  own  brother  to  the 

grey,  and  she  knew  that  neither  had  ever  outpaced  the  | 
other.    She  had  ridden  hard  all  day,  but  it  was  probable 

that  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had  ridden  harder;  he  never  1 

spared  his  horses,  and  his  weight  was  considerably  greater  j 

than  hers.  Would  it  not  be  possible  for  Silver  Star,  1 
carrying  the  lighter  burden,  to  outdistance  The  Hawk? 

It  was  a  chance.    She  would  take  it,  but  she  would  never  | 

give  in.    The  perspiration  was  rolling  down  her  face  J 

and  her  breath  was  coming  laboriously.  Suddenly,  a  few  1 
minutes  after  she  had  left  the  hills  behind,  the  Sheik's 


THE  SHEIK 


129 


deep  voice  came  clearly  across  the  space  between 
them. 

"If  you  do  not  stop  I  will  shoot  your  horse.  I  give 
you  one  minute." 

She  swayed  a  little  in  the  saddle,  clutching  the  grey's 
neck  to  steady  herself  and  for  a  moment  she  closed  her 
eyes,  but  she  did  not  falter  for  an  instant.  She  would  not 
stop ;  nothing  on  earth  should  make  her  stop  now.  Only, 
because  she  knew  the  man,  she  kicked  her  feet  clear  of 
the  stirrups.  He  had  said  he  would  shoot  and  he  would 
shoot,  and  if  the  grey  shied  or  swerved  a  hair's  breadth 
she  would  probably  receive  the  bullet  that  was  meant  for 
him.    Better  that!    Yes,  even  better  that! 

Silver  Star  tore  on  headlong  and  the  minute  seemed  a 
lifetime.  Then  before  even  she  heard  the  report  he 
bounded  in  the  air  and  fell  with  a  crash.  Diana  was 
flung  far  forward  and  landed  on  some  soft  sand.  For 
a  moment  she  was  stunned  by  the  fall,  then  she  staggered 
dizzily  to  her  feet  and  stumbled  back  to  the  prostrate 
horse.  He  was  lashing  out  wildly  with  his  heels,  making 
desperate  efforts  to  rise.  And  as  she  reached  him  the 
black  horse  dashed  up  alongside,  stopping  suddenly, 
and  rearing  straight  up.  The  Sheik  leaped  to  the  ground 
and  ran  towards  her.  He  caught  her  wrist  and  flung 
her  out  of  his  way,  and  she  lay  where  she  had  fallen, 
every  nerve  in  her  body  quivering.  She  was  beaten  and 
with  the  extinguishing  of  her  last  hope  all  her  courage 
failed  her.  She  gave  way  to  sheer,  overwhelming  terror, 
utterly  cowed.  Every  faculty  was  suspended,  swallowed 
up  in  the  one  dominating  force,  the  dread  of  his  voice  and 
the  dread  of  the  touch  of  his  hands.  She  heard  a  second 
report  and  knew  that  he  had  put  Silver  Star  out  of  his 


130 


THE  SHEIK 


misery,  and  then,  in  a  few  seconds,  his  voice  beside  her. 
She  got  up  unsteadily,  shrinking  from  him. 

"  Why  are  you  here,  and  where  is  Gaston  ?  " 

In  a  stifled  voice  she  told  him  everything.  What  did 
it  matter?  If  she  tried  to  be  silent  he  would  force  her 
to  speak. 

He  made  no  comment,  and  bringing  The  Hawk  nearer 
tossed  her  up  roughly  into  the  saddle  and  swung  up  behind 
her,  the  black  breaking  at  once  into  the  usual  headlong 
gallop.  She  made  no  kind  of  resistance,  a  complete 
apathy  seemed  to  have  come  over  her.  She  did  not  look 
at  the  body  of  Silver  Star,  she  looked  at  nothing,  clinging 
to  the  front  of  the  saddle,  and  staring  ahead  of  her  un- 
seeingly.  She  had  dropped  her  helmet  when  she  fell  and 
she  had  left  it,  thankful  to  be  relieved  of  the  pressure  on 
her  aching  head.  Her  mental  collapse  had  affected  her 
physically,  and  it  needed  a  real  effort  of  will-power  to 
enable  her  to  sit  up  right.  Very  soon  they  would  join 
the  horsemen,  who  were  waiting  for  them,  and  for  her 
pride's  sake  she  must  concentrate  all  her  energy  to  avoid 
betraying  her  weakness. 

Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  did  not  go  back  through  the  defile, 
he  turned  into  a  little  path  that  Diana  had  overlooked  and 
which  skirted  the  hills.  In  about  half-an-hour  the  troop 
met  them,  riding  slowly  from  the  opposite  direction.  She 
did  not  raise  her  eyes  as  they  approached,  but  she  heard 
Yusef's  clear  tenor  voice  calling  out  to  the  Sheik,  who 
answered  shortly  as  the  men  fell  in  behind  him.  Back 
over  the  ground  that  she  had  traversed  so  differently. 
She  knew  that  it  had  been  madness  from  the  first.  She 
should  have  known  that  it  could  never  succeed,  that  she 
could  never  reach  civilisation  alone.    She  had  been  a  fool 


THE  SHEIK 


ever  to  imagine  that  she  could  win  through.  The  chance 
that  had  thrown  her  again  into  the  Sheik's  power  might 
just  as  easily  have  thrown  her  into  the  hands  of  any 
other  Arab.  Luck  had  helped  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  even 
as  she  herself  had  unknowingly  played  into  his  hands 
when  he  had  captured  her  first.  Fate  was  with  him. 
It  was  useless  to  try  and  struggle  against  him  any  more. 
Her  brain  was  a  confused  medley  of  thoughts  that  she 
was  too  tired  to  unravel,  strange,  conflicting  ideas  chasing 
wildly  through  her  mind.  She  did  not  understand  them, 
she  did  not  try.  The  effort  of  thinking  made  her  head 
ache  agonisingly.  She  was  conscious  of  a  great  unrest, 
a  dull  aching  in  her  heart  and  a  terrible  depression  that 
was  altogether  apart  from  the  fear  she  felt  of  the  Sheik. 
She  gave  up  trying  to  think ;  she  was  concerned  only  with 
trying  to  keep  her  balance. 

She  lifted  her  head  for  the  first  time  and  looked  at  the 
magnificent  sky.  The  sun  had  almost  set,  going  down 
in  a  ball  of  molten  fire,  and  the  heavens  on  either  side 
were  a  riot  of  gold  and  crimson  and  palest  green,  shading 
off  into  vivid  blue  that  grew  blacker  and  blacker  as  the 
glory  of  the  sunset  died  away.  The  scattered  palm  trees 
and  the  far-off  hills  stood  out  in  strong  relief.  It  was  a 
country  of  marvellous  beauty,  and  Diana's  heart  gave  a 
sudden  throb  as  she  realised  that  she  was  going  back  to 
it  all.  She  was  drooping  wearily,  unable  to  sit  upright 
any  longer,  and  once  or  twice  she  jolted  heavily  against 
the  man  who  rode  behind  her.  His  nearness  had  ceased 
to  revolt  her;  she  thought  of  it  with  a  dull  feeling  of 
wonder.  She  had  even  a  sense  of  relief  at  the  thought  of 
the  strength  so  close  to  her.  Her  eyes  rested  on  his 
hands,  showing  brpwn  and  muscular  under  the  folds  of 


THE  SHEIK 


his  white  robes.  She  knew  the  power  of  the  long,  lean 
fingers  that  could,  when  he  liked,  be  gentle  enough.  Her 
eyes  filled  with  sudden  tears,  but  she  blinked  them  back 
before  they  fell.  She  wanted  desperately  to  cry.  A 
wave  of  terrible  loneliness  went  over  her,  a  feeling  of 
desolation,  and  a  strange,  incomprehensible  yearning  for 
what  she  did  not  know.  As  the  sunset  faded  and  it  grew 
rapidly  dusk  a  chill  wind  sprang  up  and  she  shivered 
from  time  to  time,  drooping  more  and  more  with  fatigue, 
at  times  only  half  conscious.  She  had  drifted  into  com- 
plete oblivion,  when  she  was  awakened  with  a  jerk  that 
threw  her  back  violently  against  the  Sheik,  but  she  was 
too  tired  to  more  than  barely  understand  that  they  had 
stopped  for  something,  and  that  there  were  palm  trees 
near  her.  She  felt  herself  lifted  down  and  a  cloak 
wrapped  round  her,  and  then  she  remembered  nothing 
more.  She  awoke  slowly,  shaking  of!  a  persistent  drowsi- 
ness by  degrees.  She  was  still  tired,  but  the  desperate 
weariness  was  gone,  and  she  was  conscious  of  a  feeling 
of  well-being  and  security.  The  cool,  night  air  blew  in 
her  face,  dissipating  her  sleepiness.  She  became  aware 
that  night  had  fallen,  and  that  they  were  still  steadily 
galloping  southward.  In  a  few  moments  she  was  wide 
awake,  and  found  that  she  was  lying  across  the  saddle 
in  front  of  the  Sheik,  and  that  he  was  holding  her  in  the 
crook  of  his  arm.  Her  head  was  resting  just  over  his 
heart,  and  she  could  feel  the  regular  beat  beneath  her 
cheek.  "VVrapped  warmly  in  the  cloak  and  held  securely 
by  his  strong  arm  at  first  she  was  content  to  give  way 
only  to  the  sensation  of  bodily  rest.  It  was  enough  for 
the  moment  to  lie  with  relaxed  muscles,  to  have  to  make 
no  effort  of  any  kind,  to  feel  the  soothing  rush  of  the 


THE  SHEIK 


133 


wind  against  her  face,  and  the  swift,  easy  gallop  of  The 
Hawk  as  he  carried  them  on  through  the  night.  Them! 
With  a  start  of  recollection  she  realised  fully  whose  arm 
was  round  her,  and  whose  breast  her  head  was  resting  on. 
Her  heart  beat  with  sudden  violence.  What  was  the 
matter  with  her?  Why  did  she  not  shrink  from  the 
pressure  of  his  arm  and  the  contact  of  his  warm,  strong 
body?  What  had  happened  to  her?  Quite  suddenly  she 
knew  —  knew  that  she  loved  him,  that  she  had  loved  him 
for  a  long  time,  even  when  she  thought  she  hated  him  and 
when  she  had  fled  from  him.  She  knew  now  why  his 
face  had  haunted  her  in  the  little  oasis  at  midday  —  that 
it  was  love  calling  to  her  subconsciously.  All  the  con- 
fusion of  mind  that  had  assailed  her  when  they  started  on 
the  homeward  journey,  the  conflicting  thoughts  and  con- 
trary emotions,  were  explained.  But  she  knew  herself 
at  last  and  knew  the  love  that  filled  her,  an  overwhelming, 
passionate  love  that  almost  frightened  her  with  its  im- 
mensity and  with  the  sudden  hold  it  had  laid  upon  her. 
Love  had  come  to  her  at  last  who  had  scorned  it  so 
fiercely.  The  men  who  had  loved  her  had  not  had  the 
power  to  touch  her,  she  had  given  love  to  no  one,  she  had 
thought  that  she  could  not  love,  that  she  was  devoid  of 
all  natural  affection  and  that  she  would  never  know  what 
love  meant.  But  she  knew  now  —  a  love  of  such  complete 
surrender  that  she  had  never  conceived.  Her  heart  was 
given  for  all  time  to  the  fierce  desert  man  who  was  so 
different  from  all  other  men  whom  she.  had  met,  a  lawless 
savage  who  had  taken  her  to  satisfy  a  passing  fancy  and 
who  had  treated  her  with  merciless  cruelty.  He  was  a 
brute,  but  she  loved  him,  loved  him  for  his  very  brutality 
and  superb  animal  strength.    And  he  was  an  Arab!  A 


i34  THE  SHEIK 

man  of  different  race  and  colour,  a  native ;  Aubrey  would 
indiscriminately  class  him  as  a  "  damned  nigger."  She 
did  not  care.  It  made  no  difference.  A  year  ago,  a  few 
weeks  even,  she  would  have  shuddered  with  repulsion  at 
the  bare  idea,  the  thought  that  a  native  could  even  touch 
her  had  been  revolting,  but  all  that  was  swept  away  and 
was  nothing  in  the  face  of  the  love  that  filled  her  heart  so 
completely.  She  did  not  care  if  he  was  an  Arab,  she  did 
not  care  what  he  was,  he  was  the  man  she  loved.  She 
was  deliriously,  insanely  happy.  She  was  lying  against 
his  heart,  and  the  clasp  of  his  arm  was  joy  unspeakable. 
She  was  utterly  content;  for  the  moment  all  life  nar- 
rowed down  to  the  immediate  surroundings,  and  she 
wished  childishly  that  they  could  ride  so  for  ever  through 
eternity.  The  night  was  brilliant.  The  stars  blazed 
against  the  inky  blackness  of  the  sky,  and  the  light  of  the 
full  moon  was  startlingly  clear  and  white.  The  discord- 
ant yelling  of  a  pack  of  hunting  jackals  came  from  a  little 
distance,  breaking  the  perfect  stillness.  The  men  were 
riding  in  unusual  silence,  though  a  low  exclamation  or  the 
subdued  jingle  of  accoutrements  was  heard  occasionally, 
once  some  one  fired  at  a  night  creature  that  bounded 
out  from  almost  under  his  horse's  feet.  But  the  Sheik 
flung  a  word  of  savage  command  over  his  shoulder  and 
there  were  no  more  shots.  Diana  stirred  slightly,  moving 
her  head  so  that  she  could  see  his  face  showing  clearly 
in  the  bright  moonlight,  which  threw  some  features  into 
high  relief  and  left  the  rest  in  dark  shadow.  She  looked 
at  him  with  quickening  breath.  He  was  peering  intently 
ahead,  his  eyes  flashing  in  the  cold  light,  his  brows  drawn 
together  in  the  characteristic  heavy  scowl,  and  the  firm 


THE  SHEIK 


135 


chin,  so  near  her  face,  was  pushed  out  more  doggedly 
than  usual. 

He  felt  her  move  and  glanced  down.  For  a  moment 
she  looked  straight  into  his  eyes,  and  then  with  a  low, 
inarticulate  murmur  she  hid  her  face  against  him.  He 
did  not  speak,  but  he  shifted  her  weight  a  little,  drawing 
her  closer  into  the  curve  of  his  arm. 

It  was  very  late  when  they  reached  the  camp.  Lights 
flashed  up  in  the  big  tent  and  on  all  sides,  and  they  were 
surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  excited  tribesmen  and  servants. 
In  spite  of  the  hard  day's  work  The  Hawk  started  plung- 
ing and  rearing,  his  invariable  habit  on  stopping,  which 
nothing  could  break,  and  at  a  word  from  the  Sheik  two 
men  leaped  to  his  head  while  he  transferred  Diana  to 
Yusef's  outstretched  arms.  She  was  stiff  and  giddy,  and 
the  young  man  helped  her  to  the  door  of  the  tent,  and 
then  vanished  again  into  the  throng  of  men  and  horses. 

Diana  sank  wearily  on  to  the  divan  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands.  She  was  trembling  with  fatigue 
and  apprehension.  What  would  he  do  to  her?  She 
asked  herself  the  question  over  and  over  again,  with  shak- 
ing, soundless  lips,  praying  for  courage,  nerving  herself 
to  meet  him.  At  last  sh>  heard  his  voice  and,  looking  up, 
saw  him  standing  in  the  doorway.  His  back  was  turned, 
and  he  was  giving  orders  to  a  number  of  men  who  stood 
near  him,  for  she  could  hear  their  several  voices;  and 
shortly  afterwards  half-a-dozen  small  bands  of  men  rode 
quickly  away  in  different  directions.  For  a  few  moments 
he  stood  talking  to  Yusef  and  then  came  in.  At  the  sight 
of  him  Diana  shrank  back  among  the  soft  cushions,  but 
he  took  no  notice  of  her,  and,  lighting  a  cigarette,  began 


136 


iTHE  SHEIK 


walking  up  and  down  the  tent.  She  dared  not  speak  to 
him,  the  expression  on  his  face  was  terrible. 

Two  soft-footed  Arab  servants  brought  a  hastily  pre- 
pared supper.  It  was  a  ghastly  meal.  He  never  spoke  or 
showed  in  any  way  that  he  was  conscious  of  her  presence. 
She  had  had  nothing  to  eat  all  day,  but  the  food  nearly 
choked  her  and  she  could  hardly  swallow  it,  but  she  forced 
herself  to  eat  a  little.  It  seemed  interminable  until  the 
servants  finally  withdrew,  after  bringing  two  little  gold- 
cased  cups  of  native  coffee,  She  gulped  it  down  with 
difficulty.  The  Sheik  had  resumed  his  restless  pacing, 
smoking  cigarette  after  cigarette  in  endless  succession. 
The  monotonous  tramp  to  and  fro  worked  on  Diana's 
nerves  until  she  winced  each  time  he  passed  her,  and, 
huddled  on  the  divan,  she  watched  him  continually, 
fascinated,  fearful. 

He  never  looked  at  her.  From  time  to  time  he  glanced 
at  the  watch  on  his  wrist  and  each  time  his  face  grew 
blacker.  If  he  would  only  speak !  His  silence  was  worse 
than  anything  he  could  say.  What  was  he  going  to  do? 
He  was  capable  of  doing  anything.  The  suspense  was 
torture.  Her  hands  grew  clamny  and  she  wrenched  at 
the  soft  open  collar  of  her  riding-shirt  with  a  feeling  of 
suffocation. 

Twice  Yusef  came  to  report,  and  the  second  time  the 
Sheik  came  back  slowly  from  the  door  where  he  had  been 
speaking  to  him  and  stopped  in  front  of  Diana,  looking  at 
her  strangely. 

She  flung  out  her  hands  instinctively,  shrinking  further 
back  among  the  cushions,  her  eyes  wavering  under  his. 
"What  are  you  going  to  do  to  me?"  she  whispered  in- 
voluntarily, with  dry  lips. 


THE  SHEIK 


137 


He  looked  at  her  without  answering  for  a  while,  as  if 
to  prolong  the  torture  she  was  enduring,  and  a  cruel  look 
crept  into  his  eyes.  "  That  depends  on  what  happens  to 
Gaston,"  he  said  at  length  slowly. 

"  Gaston  ?  "  she  repeated  stupidly.  She  had  forgotten 
the  valet,  in  all  that  had  occurred  since  the  morning  she 
had  forgotten  his  very  existence. 

"  Yes  —  Gaston,"  he  said  sternly.  "  You  do  not  seem 
to  have  thought  of  what  might  happen  to  him." 

She  sat  up  slowly,  a  puzzled  look  coming  into  her 
face.  "What  could  happen  to  him?"  she  asked  won- 
deringly. 

He  dragged  back  the  flap  of  the  tent  and  pointed  out 
into  the  darkness.  "  Over  there  in  the  south-west,  there 
is  an  old  Sheik  whose  name  is  Ibraheim  Omair.  His 
tribe  and  mine  have  been  at  feud  for  generations.  Lately 
I  have  learned  that  he  has  been  venturing  nearer  than  he 
has  ever  before  dared.  He  hates  me.  To  capture  my 
personal  servant  would  be  more  luck  than  he  could  have 
hoped  for." 

He  dropped  the  flap  and  began  walking  up  and  down 
again.  There  was  a  sinister  tone  in  his  voice  that  made 
Diana  suddenly  comprehend  the  little  Frenchman's  peril. 
Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  was  not  the  man  to  be  easily  alarmed 
on  any  one's  behalf.  That  he  was  anxious  about  Gaston 
was  apparent,  and  with  her  knowledge  of  him  she  under- 
stood his  anxiety  argued  a  very  real  danger.  She  had 
heard  tales  before  she  left  Biskra,  and  since  then  she  had 
been  living  in  an  Arab  camp,  and  she  knew  something  of 
the  fiendish  cruelty  and  callous  indifference  to  suffering 
of  the  Arabs.  Ghastly  mental  pictures  with  appalling  de- 
tails crowded  now  into  her  mind.    She  shuddered. 


138 


THE  SHEIK 


"  What  would  they  do  to  him?  "  she  asked  shakily,  with 
a  look  of  horror. 

The  Sheik  paused  beside  her.  He  looked  at  her  curi- 
ously and  the  cruelty  deepened  in  his  eyes.  "  Shall  I  tell 
you  what  they  would  do  to  him  ?  "  he  said  meaningly,  with 
a  terrible  smile. ' 

She  gave  a  cry  and  flung  her  arms  over  her  head, 
hiding  her  face.    "  Oh,  do  not !    Do  not !  "  she  wailed. 

He  jerked  the  ash  from  his  cigarette.  "  Bah!  "  he  said 
contemptuously.    "  You  are  squeamish." 

She  felt  sick  with  the  realisation  of  what  could  result 
to  Gaston  from  her  action.  She  had  had  no  personal 
feeling  with  regard  to  him.  On  the  contrary,  she  liked 
him  —  she  had  not  thought  of  him,  the  man,  when  she 
had  stampeded  his  horse  and  left  him  on  foot  so  far  from 
camp.  She  had  looked  upon  him  only  as  a  jailer,  his 
master's  deputy. 

The  near  presence  of  this  hostile  Sheik  explained  many 
things  she  had  not  understood:  Gaston's  evident  desire 
during  their  ride  not  to  go  beyond  a  certain  distance,  the 
special  activity  that  had  prevailed  of  late  amongst  the 
Sheik's  immediate  followers,  and  the  speed  and  silence 
that  had  been  maintained  during  the  headlong  gallop 
across  the  desert  that  evening.  She  had  known  all  along 
the  Arab's  obvious  affection  for  his  French  servant,  and 
it  was  confirmed  now  by  the  anxiety  that  he  did  not  take 
the  trouble  to  conceal  —  so  unlike  his  usual  complete  in- 
difference to  suffering  or  danger. 

She  looked  at  him  thoughtfully.  There  were  still 
depths  that  she  had  not  fathomed  in  his  strange  character. 
Would  she  ever  arrive  at  even  a  distant  understanding 
of  his  complex  nature?   There  was  a  misty  yearning  in 


THE  SHEIK 


139 


her  eyes  as  they  followed  his  tall  figure  up  and  down  the 
tent.  His  feet  made  no  sound  on  the  thick  rugs,  and  he 
moved  with  the  long,  graceful  stride  that  always  reminded 
her  of  the  walk  of  a  wild  animal.  Her  new-found  love 
longed  for  expression  as  she  watched  him.  If  she  could 
only  tell  him !  If  she  had  only  the  right  to  go  to  him  and 
in  his  arms  to  kiss  away  the  cruel  lines  from  his  mouth ! 
But  she  had  not.  She  must  wait  until  she  was  called, 
until  he  should  choose  to  notice  the  woman  whom  he  had 
taken  for  his  pleasure,  until  the  baser  part  of  him  had 
need  of  her  again.  He  was  an  Arab,  and  to  him  a 
woman  was  a  slave,  and  as  a  slave  she  must  give  every- 
thing and  ask  for  nothing. 

And  when  he  did  turn  to  her  again  the  joy  she  would 
feel  in  his  embrace  would  be  an  agony  for  the  love  that 
was  not  there.  His  careless  kisses  would  scorch  her  and 
the  strength  of  his  arms  would  be  a  mockery.  But  would 
he  ever  turn  to  her  again?  If  anything  happened  to 
Gaston  —  if  what  he  had  suggested  became  a  fact  and 
the  servant  lell  a  victim  to  the  blood  feud  between  the 
two  tribes  ?  She  knew  he  would  be  terribly  avenged,  and 
what  would  her  part  be?  She  wondered  dully  if  he 
would  kill  her,  and  how.  If  the  long,  brown  fingers  with 
their  steely  strength  would  choke  the  life  out  of  her.  Her 
hands  went  up  to  her  throat  mechanically.  He  stopped 
near  her  to  light  a  fresh  cigarette,  and  she  was  trying  to 
summon  up  courage  to  speak  to  him  of  Gaston  when  the 
covering  of  the  doorway  was  flung  open  and  Gaston  him- 
self stood  in  the  entrance. 

"  Monseigneur  — "  he  stammered,  and  with  his  two 
hands  outstretched,  palm  uppermost,  he  made  an  appealing 
gesture 


THE  SHEIK 


The  Sheik's  hand  shot  out  and  gripped  the  man's  shoul- 
der. "Gaston!  Eniin,  mon  ami!"  he  said  slowly,  but 
there  was  a  ring  in  his  low  voice  that  Diana  had  never 
heard  before. 

For  a  moment  the  two  men  stared  at  each  other,  and 
then  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  gave  a  little  laugh  of  great  relief. 
"  Praise  be  to  Allah,  the  Merciful,  the  Compassionate,"  he 
murmured. 

"  To  his  name  praise ! "  rejoined  Gaston  softly,  then 
his  eyes  roved  around  the  tent  towards  Diana,  and  there 
was  no  resentment  in  them,  but  only  anxiety. 

"Madame  is—"  he  hesitated,  but  the  Sheik  cut  him 
short. 

"  Madame  is  quite  safe,"  he  said  dryly,  and  pushed  him 
gently  towards  the  door  with  a  few  words  in  rapid  Arabic. 
He  stood  some  time  after  Gaston  had  gone  to  his  own 
quarters  looking  out  into  the  night,  and  when  he  came  in, 
lingered  unusually  over  closing  the  flap.  Diana  stood 
hesitating.  She  was  worn  out  and  her  long  riding-boots 
felt  like  lead.  She  was  afraid  to  go  and  afraid  to  stay. 
He  seemed  purposely  ignoring  her.  The  relief  of  Gaston's 
return  was  enormous,  but  she  had  still  to  reckon  with  him 
for  her  attempted  flight.  That  he  said  no  word  about  it 
at  the  moment  meant  nothing;  she  knew  him  too  well 
for  that.  And  there  was  Silver  Star,  the  finest  of  all  his 
magnificent  horses  —  she  had  yet  to  pay  for  his  death. 
The  strain  that  she  had  gone  through  since  the  morning 
was  tremendous,  she  could  not  bear  much  more.  His 
silence  aggravated  her  breaking  nerves  until  she  felt  that 
her  nerves  would  go.  He  had  moved  over  to  the  writing- 
table  and  was  tearing  the  wrapping  off  a  box  of  cart- 
ridges preparatory  to  refilling  the  magazine  of  his  revolver. 


THE  SHEIK 


141 


The  little  operation  seemed  to  take  centuries.  She  started 
at  each  separate  click.  She  gripped  her  hands  and  passed 
her  tongue  over  her  dry  lips.  If  he  would  not  speak  she 
must,  she  could  endure  it  no  longer. 

"  I  am  sorry  about  Silver  Star/'  she  faltered,  and  even 
to  herself  her  voice  sounded  hoarse  and  strange.  He 
did  not  answer,  but  only  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  he 
dropped  the  last  cartridge  into  its  place. 

The  gesture  and  his  uncompromising  attitude  exasper- 
ated her.  "  You  had  better  have  shot  me,"  she  said  bit- 
terly. 

"  Perhaps.  You  would  have  been  easier  replaced. 
There  are  plenty  of  women,  but  Silver  Star  was  almost 
unique,"  he  retorted  quickly,  and  she  winced  at  the  cold 
brutality  of  his  tone. 

A  little  sad  smile  curved  her  lips.  "  Yet  you  shot  your 
horse  to  get  me  back,"  she  said  in  a  barely  audible  voice. 

He  flung  round  with  an  oath.  "  You  little  fool !  Do 
you  know  so  little  of  me  yet?  Do  you  think  that  I  will 
let  anything  stand  between  me  and  what  I  want  ?  Do  you 
think  that  by  running  away  from  me  you  will  make  me 
want  you  less  ?  By  Allah !  I  would  have  found  you  if 
you  had  got  as  far  as  France.  What  I  have  I  keep,  until 
I  tire  of  it- — and  I  have  not  tired  of  you  yet."  He 
jerked  her  to  him,  staring  down  at  her  passionately,  and 
for  a  moment  his  face  was  the  face  of  a  devil.  "  How 
shall  I  punish  you  ?  "  He  felt  the  shudder  he  expected  go 
through  her  and  laughed  as  she  shrank  in  his  arms  and 
hid  her  face.  He  forced  her  head  up  with  merciless  fin- 
gers. "  What  do  you  hate  most  ?  —  my  kisses  ?  "  and 
with  another  mocking  laugh  he  crushed  his  mouth  to  hers 
in  a  long  suffocating  embrace. 


142 


THE  SHEIK 


Then  he  let  her  go  suddenly,  and,  blind  and  dizzy,  she 
reeled  from  him  and  staggered.  He  caught  her  as  she 
swayed  and  swept  her  into  his  arms.  Her  head  fell  back 
against  his  shoulder  and  his  face  changed  at  the  sight  of 
her  quivering  features.  He  carried  her  into  the  adjoin- 
ing room  and  laid  her  on  the  couch,  his  hands  lingering 
as  he  drew  them  from  her.  For  a  moment  he  stood  look- 
ing down  with  smouldering  eyes  on  the  slight,  boyish 
figure  lying  on  the  bed,  the  ferocity  dying  out  of  his  face. 
"  Take  care  you  do  not  wake  the  devil  in  me  again,  ma 
belle"  he  said  sombrely. 

Alone  Diana  turned  her  face  into  the  pillows  with  a 
moan  of  anguish.  Back  in  the  desert  a  few  hours  ago, 
under  the  shining  stars,  when  the  truth  had  first  come  to 
her,  she  had  thought  that  she  was  happy,  but  she  knew 
now  that  without  his  love  she  would  never  be  happy.  She 
had  tasted  the  bitterness  of  his  loveless  kisses  and  she 
knew  that  a  worse  bitterness  was  to  come,  and  she 
writhed  at  the  thought  of  what  her  life  with  him  would  be. 

"  I  love  him !  I  love  him !  And  I  want  his  love  more 
than  anything  in  Heaven  and  earth." 


CHAPTER  VI 

Diana  was  sitting  on  the  divan  in  the  living-room  of  the 
tent  lingering  over  her  petit  dejeuner,  a  cup  of  coffee 
poised  in  one  hand  and  her  bright  head  bent  over  a  mag- 
azine on  her  knee.  It  was  a  French  periodical  of  fairly 
recent  date,  left  a  few  days  before  by  a  Dutchman  who 
was  touring  through  the  desert,  and  who  had  asked  a 
night's  hospitality.  Diana  had  not  seen  him,  and  it  was 
not  until  the  traveller  had  been  served  with  dinner  in  his 
own  tent  that  the  Sheik  had  sent  the  usual  flowery  mes- 
sage conveying  what,  though  wrapped  in  honeyed  words, 
amounted  practically  to  a  command  that  he  should  come 
to  drink  coffee  and  let  himself  be  seen.  Only  native 
servants  had  been  in  attendance,  and  it  was  an  Arab  un- 
tinged  by  any  Western  influence  who  had  received  him, 
talking  only  Arabic,  which  the  Dutchman  spoke  fluently, 
and  placing  at  his  disposal  himself,  his  servants  and  all  his 
belongings  with  the  perfunctory  Oriental  insincerity 
which  the  traveller  knew  meant  nothing  and  accepted  at  its 
own  value,  returning  to  the  usual  set  phrases  the  custom- 
ary answers  that  were  expected  of  him.  Once  or  twice 
as  they  talked  a  woman's  subdued  voice  had  reached  the 
Dutchman's  ears  from  behind  the  thick  curtains,  but  he 
knew  too  much  to  let  any  expression  betray  him,  and  he 
smiled  grimly  to  himself  at  the  thought  of  the  change  that 
an  indiscreet  question  would  bring  to  the  stern  face  of  his 
143 


144 


THE  SHEIK 


grave  and  impassive  host.  He  was  an  elderly  man  with 
a  tender  heart,  and  he  wondered  speculatively  what  the 
girl  in  the  next  room  would  have  to  pay  for  her  own  in- 
discretion in  allowing  her  voice  to  be  heard.  He  left  the 
next  morning  early  without  seeing  the  Sheik  again,  es- 
corted for  some  little  distance  by  Yusef  and  a  few  men. 

Diana  read  eagerly.  Anything  fresh  to  read  was  pre- 
cious. She  looked  like  a  slender  boy  in  the  soft  riding- 
shirt  and  smart-cut  breeches,  one  slim  foot  in  a  long  brown 
boot  drawn  up  under  her,  and  the  other  swinging  idly 
against  the  side  of  the  divan.  She  finished  her  coffee 
hastily,  and,  lighting  a  cigarette,  leaned  back  with  a  sigh 
of  content  over  the  magazine. 

Two  months  had  slipped  away  since  her  mad  flight, 
since  her  dash  for  freedom  that  had  ended  in  tragedy  for 
the  beautiful  Silver  Star  and  so  unexpectedly  for  herself. 
Weeks  of  vivid  happiness  that  had  been  mixed  with  poign- 
ant suffering,  for  the  perfect  joy  of  being  with  him 
was  marred  by  the  passionate  longing  for  his  love. 
Even  her  surroundings  had  taken  on  a  new  aspect,  her 
happiness  coloured  everything.  The  Eastern  luxury  of 
the  tent  and  its  appointments  no  longer  seemed  theatri- 
cal, but  the  natural  setting  of  the  magnificent  specimen 
of  manhood  who  surrounded  himself  by  all  the  display 
dear  to  the  heart  of  the  native.  How  much  was  for  his 
own  pleasure  and  how  much  was  for  the  sake  of  his 
followers  she  had  never  been  able  to  determine.  The 
beauties  and  attractions  of  the  desert  had  multiplied  a 
hundred  times.  The  wild  tribesmen,  with  their  prim- 
itive ways  and  savagery,  had  ceased  to  disgust  her,  and 
the  free  life  with  its  constant  exercise  and  simple  routine 
was  becoming  indefinitely  dear  to  her.    The  camp  had 


THE  SHEIK 


145 


been  moved  several  times  —  always  towards  the  south  — 
and  each  change  had  been  a  source  of  greater  interest. 

And  since  the  night  that  he  had  carried  her  back  in 
triumph  he  had  been  kind  to  her  —  kind  beyond  anything 
that  she  had  expected.  He  had  never  made  any  reference 
to  her  fight  or  to  the  death  of  the  horse  that  he  had 
valued  so  highly;  in  that  he  had  been  generous.  The 
episode  over,  he  wished  no  further  allusion  to  it.  But 
there  was  nothing  beyond  kindness.  The  passion  that 
smouldered  in  his  dark  eyes  often  was  not  the  love  she 
craved,  it  was  only  the  desire  that  her  uncommon  type 
and  her  utter  dissimilarity  from  all  the  other  women 
who  had  passed  through  his  hands  had  awakened  in  him. 
The  perpetual  remembrance  of  those  other  woman 
brought  her  a  constant  burning  shame  that  grew  stronger 
every  day,  a  shame  that  was  only  less  strong  than  her 
ardent  love,  and  a  wild  jealousy  that  tortured  her  with 
doubts  and  fears,  an  ever-present  demon  of  suggestion 
reminding  her  of  the  past  when  it  was  not  she  who  lay 
in  his  arms,  nor  her  lips  that  received  his  kisses.  The 
knowledge  that  the  embraces  she  panted  for  had  been 
shared  by  les  autres  was  an  open  wound  that  would  not 
heal.  She  tried  to  shut  her  mind  to  the  past.  She 
knew  that  she  was  a  fool  to  expect  the  abstinence  of  a 
monk  in  the  strong,  virile  desert  man.  And  she  was 
afraid  for  the  future.  She  wanted  him  for  herself  alone, 
wanted  his  undivided  love,  and  that  he  was  an  Arab  with 
Oriental  instincts  filled  her  with  continual  dread,  dread  of 
the  real  future  about  which  she  never  dared  to  think, 
dread  of  the  passing  of  his  transient  desire.  She  loved 
him  so  passionately,  so  completely,  that  beyond  him  was 
nothing.    He  was  all  the  world.    She  gave  herself  to 


146 


THE  SHEIK 


him  gladly,  triumphantly,  as  she  would  give  her  life  for 
him  if  need  be.  But  she  had  schooled  herself  to  hide 
her  love,  to  yield  apathetically  to  his  caresses,  and  to 
conceal  the  longing  that  possessed  her.  She  was  afraid 
that  the  knowledge  that  she  loved  him  would  bring  about 
the  disaster  she  dreaded.  The  words  that  he  had  once 
used  remained  continually  in  her  mind :  "  If  you  loved  me 
you  would  bore  me,  and  I  should  have  to  let  you  go." 
And  she  hid  her  love  closely  in  her  heart.  It  was  diffi- 
cult, and  it  hurt  her  to  hide  it  from  him  and  to  assume 
indifference.  It  was  difficult  to  remember  that  she  must 
make  a  show  of  reluctance  when  she  was  longing  to  give 
unreservedly.  She  dropped  the  end  of  the  cigarette  hiss- 
ing into  the  dregs  of  the  coffee  and  turned  a  page,  and, 
as  she  did  so,  she  looked  up  suddenly,  the  magazine  drop- 
ping unheeded  on  the  floor.  Close  outside  the  tent  the 
same  low,  vibrating  baritone  was  singing  the  Kashmiri 
love  song  that  she  had  heard  last  the  night  before  she  left 
Biskra.    She  sat  tense,  her  eyes  growing  puzzled. 

"Pale  hands  I  loved  beside  the  Shalimar.  Where  are 
you  now?    Who  lies  beneath  your  spell?  " 

The  voice  came  nearer  and  he  swept  in,  still  singing, 
and  came  to  her.  "Pale  hands,  pink  tipped"  he  sang, 
stopping  in  front  of  her  and  catching  her  fingers  in  his 
up  to  his  lips,  but  she  tore  them  away  before  he  kissed 
them. 

"  You  do  know  English  ? 99  she  cried  sharply,  her  eyes 
searching  his. 

He  flung  himself  on  the  divan  beside  her  with  a  laugh. 
"  Because  I  sing  an  English  song?  99  he  replied  in  French. 
"La!  la!  I  heard  a  Spanish  boy  singing  in  'Carmen' 
once  in  Paris  who  did  not  know  a  word  of  French  beside 


THE  SHEIK 


147 


the  score.  He  learned  it  parrot-like,  as  I  learn  your 
English  songs,"  he  added,  smiling. 

She  watched  him  light  a  cigarette,  and  her  forehead 
wrinkled  thoughtfully.  "  It  was  you  who  sang  outside 
the  hotel  in  Biskra  that  night  ?  "  she  asked  at  last,  more 
statement  than  question. 

"  One  is  mad  sometimes,  especially  when  the  moon  is 
high,"  he  replied  teasingly. 

"  And  was  it  you  who  came  into  my  bedroom  and  put 
the  blank  cartridges  in  my  revolver?  " 

His  arm  stole  round  her,  drawing  her  to  him,  and  he 
lifted  her  head  up  so  that  he  could  look  into  her  eyes. 
"  Do  you  think  that  —  I  would  have  allowed  anybody  else 
to  go  to  your  room  at  night  ?  —  I,  an  Arab,  when  I  meant 
you  for  myself  ?  " 

"  You  were  so  sure  ?  " 

He  laughed  softly,  as  if  the  suggestion  that  any  plan 
of  his  could  be  liable  to  miscarriage  amused  him  infinitely, 
and  the  smouldering  passion  flamed  up  in  his  dark  eyes. 
He  strained  her  to  him  hungrily,  as  if  her  slim  body  lying 
against  his  had  awakened  the  sleeping  fires  within  him. 
She  struggled  against  the  pressure  of  his  arm,  averting 
her  head. 

"Always  cold?"  he  chided.  u  Kiss  me,  little  piece  of 
ice. 

She  longed  to,  and  it  almost  broke  her  heart  to  perse- 
vere in  her  efforts  to  repulse  him.  A  wild  desire  seized 
her  to  tell  him  that  she  loved  him,  to  make  an  end  once 
and  for  all  of  the  misery  of  doubt  and  fear  that  was 
sapping  her  strength  from  her,  and  abide  by  the  issue. 
But  the  spark  of  hope  that  lived  in  her  heart  gave  her 
courage,  and  she  fought  down  the  burning  words  that 


148 


THE  SHEIK 


sought  utterance,  forcing  indifference  into  her  eyes  and 
a  mutinous  pout  to  her  lips. 

His  black  brows  drew  together  slowly.  "  Still  dis- 
obedient? You  said  you  would  obey  me.  I  loathe  the 
English,  but  I  thought  their  word  — " 

She  interrupted  him  with  a  quick  gesture,  and,  turning 
her  face  to  his,  for  the  first  time  kissed  him  voluntarily, 
brushing  his  tanned  cheek  with  swift,  cold  lips. 

He  laughed  disdainfully.  "Bon  Dieu!  Has  the  hot 
sun  of  the  desert  taught  you  no  better  than  that  ?  Have 
you  learned  so  little  from  me?  Has  the  vile  climate  of 
your  detestable  country  frozen  you  so  thoroughly  that 
nothing  can  melt  you  ?  Or  is  there  some  man  in  England 
who  has  the  power  to  turn  you  from  a  statue  to  a 
woman  ?  "  he  added,  with  an  angry  snarl. 

She  clenched  her  hands  with  the  pain  of  his  words. 
"  There  is  no  one,"  she  muttered,  "  but  I  —  I  don't  feel 
like  that." 

"  You  had  better  learn,"  he  said  thickly.  "  I  am  tired 
of  holding  an  icicle  in  my  arms,"  and  sweeping  her  com- 
pletely into  his  masterful  grasp  he  covered  her  face  with 
fierce,  burning  kisses. 

And  for  the  first  time  she  surrendered  to  him  wholly, 
clinging  to  him  passionately,  and  giving  him  kiss  for  kiss 
with  an  absolute  abandon  of  all  resistance.  At  last  he 
let  her  go,  panting  and  breathless,  and  leaped  up,  drawing 
his  hand  across  his  eyes. 

"  You  go  to  my  head,  Diane,"  he  said,  with  a  laugh 
that  was  half  anger,  and  shrugging  his  shoulders  moved 
across  the  tent  to  the  chest  where  the  spare  arms  were 
kept,  and  unlocking  it  took  out  a  revolver  and  began  to 
clean  it. 


THE  SHEIK 


149 


She  looked  at  him  bewildered.  What  had  he  meant? 
How  could  she  reconcile  what  he  said  with  the  advice  that 
he  had  given  her  before?  Was  he  totally  inconsistent? 
Did  he,  after  all,  want  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
he  had  made  her  love  him  —  of  flattering  himself  on  the 
power  he  exercised  over  her?  Did  he  care  that  he  was 
able  to  torture  her  heart  with  a  refinement  of  cruelty 
that  took  all  and  gave  nothing?  Did  he  wish  her  to 
crawl  abjectly  to  his  feet  to  give  him  the  pleasure  of 
spurning  her  contemptuously,  or  was  it  only  that  he 
wanted  her  senses  merely  to  respond  to  his  ardent,  East- 
ern temperament?  Her  face  grew  hot  and  shamed.  She 
knew  the  fiery  nature  that  was  hidden  under  his  im- 
passive exterior  and  knew  the  control  he  exercised  over 
himself,  knew,  too,  that  the  strain  he  put  upon  himself 
was  liable  to  be  broken  with  unexpected  suddenness.  It 
was  on  easy  thing  to  rule  his  wild  followers,  and  she 
guessed  that  the  relaxation  that  he  looked  for  in  the 
privacy  of  his  own  tent  meant  more  to  him  than  he  would 
ever  have  admitted,  than  perhaps  he  even  know.  The 
hatred  and  defiance  with  which  she  had  repelled  him  had 
provoked  and  amused  him,  but  it  had  also  at  times  angered 
him. 

He  was  very  human,  and  there  must  have  been 
moments  when  he  wanted  a  willing  mate  rather  than  a 
rebellious  prisoner.  She  gave  a  quick  sigh  as  she  looked 
at  him.  He  was  so  strong,  so  vigorous,  so  intensely  alive. 
It  was  going  to  be  very  difficult  to  anticipate  his  moods 
and  be  subservient  to  his  temper.  She  sighed  again 
wearily.  If  she  could  but  make  him  and  keep  him  happy. 
She  ruffled  her  loose  curls,  tugging  them  with  a  puzzled 
frown,  a  trick  that  was  a  survival  of  her  nursery  days, 


THE  SHEIK 


when  she  clutched  frantically  at  her  red-gold  mop  to  help 
her  settle  any  childish  difficulty. 

She  knelt  up  suddenly  on  the  cushions  of  the  divan. 
"Why  do  you  hate  the  English  so  bitterly,  Monseig- 
neur  ? 99  She  had  dropped  almost  unconsciously  into  Gas- 
ton's mode  of  address  for  some  time;  it  was  often 
awkward  to  give  him  no  name,  and  she  shrank  from 
using  his  own ;  and  the  title  fitted  him. 

He  looked  up  from  his  work,  and,  gathering  the  mate- 
rials together,  brought  them  over  to  the  divan.  "  Light 
me  a  cigarette,  cherie,  my  hands  are  busy,"  he  replied 
irrelevantly. 

She  complied  with  a  little  laugh.  "You  haven't  an- 
swered my  question." 

He  polished  the  gleaming  little  weapon  in  his  hand  for 
some  time  without  speaking.  "  Ma  petite  Diane,  your 
lips  are  of  an  adorable  redness  and  your  voice  is  music 
in  my  ears,  but  —  I  detest  questions.  They  bore  me  to 
a  point  of  exasperation,"  he  said  at  last  lightly,  and 
started  humming  the  Kashmiri  song  again. 

She  knew  him  well  enough  to  know  that  all  questions 
did  not  bore  him,  but  that  she  must  have  touched  some 
point  connected  with  the  past  of  which  she  was  ignorant 
that  affected  him,  and  to  prove  her  knowledge  she  asked 
another  question.  "  Why  do  you  sing  ?  You  have  never 
sung  before." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  smile  of  amusement  at  her 
pertinacity.  "  Inquisitive  one !  I  sing  because  I  am  glad. 
Because  my  friend  is  coming." 

"Your  friend?" 

"  Yes,  by  Allah !  The  best  friend  a  man  ever  had. 
Raoul  de  Saint  Hubert," 


THE  SHEIK 


She  flashed  a  look  at  the  bookcase  with  a  jerk  of  her 
head,  and  he  nodded.  "  Coming  here  ?  "  she  queried,  and 
the  dismay  she  felt  sounded  in  her  voice. 

He  frowned  in  quick  annoyance  at  her  tone.  "  Why 
not  ?  "  he  said  haughtily. 

"  No  reason,"  she  murmured,  sinking  down  among  the 
cushions  again  and  picking  up  the  magazine  from  the 
floor.  The  advent  of  a  stranger  —  a  European  —  was  a 
shock,  but  she  felt  that  the  Sheik's  eyes  were  on  her  and 
she  determined  to  show  no  feeling  in  his  presence. 
"  What  time  will  you  be  ready  to  ride  ?  "  she  asked  in- 
differently, with  a  simulated  yawn,  flirting  over  the  pages. 

"  I  can't  ride  with  you  to-day.  I  am  going  to  meet 
Saint  Hubert.  His  courier  only  came  an  hour  ago.  It 
is  two  years  since  I  have  seen  him." 

Diana  slipped  off  the  couch  and  went  to  the  open  door- 
way. A  detachment  of  men  were  already  waiting  for 
him,  and,  close  by  the  tent,  Shaitan  of  the  ugly  temper 
was  biting  and  fidgeting  in  the  hands  of  the  grooms.  She 
scowled  at  the  beautiful,  wicked  creature's  flat-laid  ears 
and  rolling  eyes.  She  would  have  backed  him  fearlessly 
herself  if  the  Sheik  had  let  her,  but  she  was  nervous  for 
him  every  time  he  rode  the  vicious  beast.  No  one  but  the 
Sheik  could  manage  him,  and  though  she  knew  that  he 
had  perfect  mastery  over  the  horse,  she  never  lost  the 
feeling  of  nervousness,  a  sensation  the  old  Diana  had 
never,  never  experienced,  and  she  wished  to-day  that  it 
had  been  any  other  horse  but  Shaitan  waiting  for  him. 

She  went  back  to  him  slowly.  "  It  makes  my  head  ache, 
to  stay  in  all  day.  May  Gaston  not  ride  with  me  ?  "  she 
asked  diffidently,  her  eyes  anywhere  but  on  his  face.  He 
had  not  allowed  her  to  ride  with  any  one  except  himself 


152 


THE  SHEIK 


since  her  attempted  escape,  and  to  her  tentative  suggest 
tions  that  the  rides  with  the  valet  might  be  resumed  he  had 
given  a  prompt  refusal.  He  hesitated  now,  and  she  was 
afraid  he  was  going  to  refuse  again,  and  she  looked  up 
wistfully.  "  Please,  Monseigneur,"  she  whispered 
humbly. 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  with  his  chin  squarer 
than  usual.  "Are  you  going  to  run  away  again?"  he 
asked  bluntly. 

Her  eyes  filled  slowly  with  tears,  and  she  turned  her 
head  away  to  hide  them.  "  No,  I  am  not  going  to  run 
away  again,"  she  said  very  low. 

"  Very  well,  I  will  tell  him.  He  will  be  delighted,  le 
bon  Gaston.  He  is  your  very  willing  slave  in  spite  of 
the  trick  you  played  him.  He  has  a  beautiful  nature,  le 
pauvre  diable.  He  is  not  an  Arab,  eh,  little  Diane  ? " 
The  mocking  smile  was  back  in  his  eyes  as  he  turned  her 
face  up  to  his  in  the  usual  peremptory  way.  Then  he 
held  out  the  revolver  he  had  been  cleaning  with  sudden 
seriousness.  "  I  want  you  to  carry  this  always  now  when 
you  ride.    Ibraheim  Omair  is  still  in  the  neighbourhood." 

She  looked  at  it  blankly. 

"  But  "  she  stammered. 

He  knew  what  was  in  her  mind,  and  he  stooped  and 
kissed  her  lightly.  "  I  trust  you,"  he  said  quietly,  and 
went  out. 

She  followed  him  to  the  door,  the  revolver  dangling 
from  her  hand,  and  watched  him  mount  and  ride  away. 
His  horsemanship  was  superb  and  her  eyes  glowed  as 
they  followed  him.  She  went  back  into  the  tent  and 
slipped  the  revolver  into  the  holster  he  had  left  lying  on 
a  stool,  and,  tucking  it  and  Saint  Hubert's  novel,  which 


THE  SHEIK 


153 


she  took  from  the  bookcase,  under  her  arm,  went  into  the 
bed-room  and,  calling  to  Zilah  to  pull  off  her  riding-boots, 
threw  herself  on  the  bed  to  laze  away  the  morning,  and 
to  try  and  picture  the  author  from  the  book  he  had 
written. 

She  hated  him  in  advance;  she  was  jealous  of  him  and 
of  his  coming.  The  Sheik's  sudden  new  tenderness  had 
given  rise  to  a  hope  she  hardly  dared  allow  herself  to 
dwell  upon.  Might  not  the  power  that  she  had  exercised 
over  other  men  be  still  extended  to  him  in  spite  of  the 
months  that  he  had  been  indifferent  to  anything  except 
the  mere  physical  attraction  she  had  for  him?  Was  it 
not  possible  that  out  of  that  attraction  might  develop 
something  finer  and  better  than  the  primitive  desire  she 
had  aroused?  Oriental  though  he  was,  might  he  not  be 
capable  of  a  deep  and  lasting  affection?  He  might  have 
loved  her  if  no  outside  influence  had  come  to  interrupt 
the  routine  that  had  become  so  intimately  a  part  of  his 
life.  Those  other  episodes  to  which  he  had  referred  so 
lightly  had  been  a  matter  of  days  or  weeks,  not  months, 
as  in  her  case.  He  might  have  cared  but  for  the  coming 
of  this  Frenchman.  She  hurled  Saint  Hubert's  book 
across  the  room  in  a  fit  of  girlish  rage  and  buried  her 
head  in  her  arms.  He  would  be  odious  —  a  smirking, 
conceited  egotist!  She  had  met  several  French  writers 
and  she  visualised  him  contemptuously.  His  books  were 
undoubtedly  clever.  So  much  the  worse;  he  would  be 
correspondingly  inflated.  His  novel  revealed  a  passion- 
ate, emotional  temperament  that  promised  to  complicate 
the  situation  if  he  should  be  pleased  to  cast  an  eye  of 
favour  on  her.  She  writhed  at  the  very  thought.  And 
that  he  was  to  see  her  was  evident;  the  Sheik  had  left 


154 


THE  SHEIK 


no  orders  to  the  contrary.  It  was  not  to  be  the  case  of  the 
Dutch  traveller,  when  the  fact  that  she  belonged  to  an 
Arab  had  been  brought  home  to  her  effectually  by  Ahmed 
Ben  Hassan's  peremptory  commands,  and  she  had  ex- 
perienced for  the  first  time  the  sensation  of  a  woman  kept 
in  seclusion. 

The  emotions  of  the  morning  and  the  disappointment  of 
the  intended  ride,  together  with  the  dismay  produced  by 
the  unexpected  visitor,  all  combined  to  agitate  her  power- 
fully, and  she  worked  herself  up  into  a  fever  of  self- 
torture  and  unhappiness.  She  ended  by  falling  asleep  and 
slept  heavily  for  some  hours.  Zilah  waked  her  with  a 
shy  hand  on  her  arm  and  a  soft  announcement  of  lunch, 
and  Diana  sat  up,  rubbing  her  eyes,  flushed  and  drowsy. 
She  stared  uncomprehendingly  for  a  moment  at  the  Arab 
girl,  and  then  waved  her  away  imperiously  and  buried  her 
head  in  the  pillows  again.  Lunch,  when  her  heart  was 
breaking ! 

Mindful  of  her  lord's  deputy,  who  was  waiting  in  the 
next  room,  and  whom  she  regarded  with  awe,  Zilah  held 
her  ground  with  a  timid  insistence  until  Diana  started  up 
wrathfully  and  bade  her  go  in  tones  that  she  had  never 
used  before  to  the  little  waiting-girl.  Zilah  fled  precipi- 
tately, and,  thoroughly  awakened,  Diana  swung  her  heels 
to  the  ground  and  with  her  elbows  on  her  knees  rested  her 
hot  head  in  her  hands.  She  felt  giddy,  her  head  ached 
and  her  mouth  was  parched  and  dry.  She  got  up  lan- 
guidly, and  going  to  the  table  studied  her  face  in  the 
mirror  intently.  She  frowned  at  the  reflection.  She  had 
never  been  proud  of  her  own  beauty;  she  had  lived  with 
it  always  and  it  had  seemed  to  her  a  thing  of  no  conse- 


THE  SHEIK 


155 


quence,  and  now  that  it  had  failed  to  arouse  the  love  she 
wanted  in  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  she  almost  hated  it. 

"  Are  you  going  to  have  fever  or  are  you  merely  bad- 
tempered  ?  "  she  asked  out  loud,  and  the  sound  of  her  own 
voice  made  her  laugh  in  spite  of  her  heavy  heart.  She 
went  into  the  bathroom  and  soused  her  head  in  cold  water. 
When  she  came  back  a  frightened  Zilah  was  putting  a 
small  tray  on  the  brass-topped  table  by  the  bed. 

"  M'seiur  Gaston,"  she  stammered,  almost  crying. 

Diana  looked  at  the  tray,  arranged  with  all  the  dainty 
neatness  dear  to  the  valet's  heart,  and  then  at  the  travel- 
ling clock  on  the  table  beside  it,  and  realised  that  it  was 
an  hour  past  her  usual  lunch-time  and  that  she  was  ex- 
tremely hungry,  after  all.  A  little  piece  of  paper  on  the 
tray  caught  her  eye,  and,  picking  it  up,  she  read  in  Gas- 
ton's clear  though  minute  handwriting,  "  At  what  hour 
does  Madame  desire  to  ride  ?  " 

The  servant  clearly  had  no  intention  of  giving  up 
the  programme  for  the  afternoon  without  a  struggle.  She 
smiled  as  she  added  a  figure  to  the  end  of  the  note, 
and  went  to  the  curtains  that  divided  the  rooms. 
"  Gaston ! " 

"Madame!" 

She  passed  the  paper  silently  through  the  curtains  and 
went  back  to  her  lunch.  When  she  sent  Zilah  away  with 
the  empty  tray  she  rescued  the  Vicomte  de  Saint  Hubert's 
book  from  the  floor  where  she  had  thrown  it  and  tried  to 
read  it  dispassionately.  She  turned  to  the  title-page  and 
studied  the  pencilled  scrawl  "  Souvenir  de  Raoul  "  closely, 
It  did  not  look  like  the  handwriting  of  a  small-minded 
man,  but  handwriting  was  nothing  to  go  by,  she  argued 


156 


THE  SHEIK 


obstinately.  Aubrey,  who  was  the  essence  of  selfishness, 
wrote  beautifully,  and  had  once  been  told  by  an  expert 
that  his  writing  denoted  a  generous  love  of  his  fellow- 
men,  which  deduction  had  aroused  no  enthusiasm  in  the 
baronet,  and  had  given  his  sister  over  to  helpless  mirth. 
She  turned  the  pages,  dipping  here  and  there,  finally  for- 
getting the  author  altogether  in  the  book.  It  was  a  won- 
derful story  of  a  man's  love  and  faithfulness,  and  Diana 
pushed  it  aside  at  last  with  a  very  bitter  sigh.  Thingj 
happened  so  in  books.  In  real  life  they  happened  very 
differently.  She  looked  round  the  room  with  pain-filled 
eyes,  at  the  medley  of  her  own  and  the  Sheik's  belongings, 
her  ivory  toilet  appointments  jostling  indiscriminately 
among  his  brushes  and  his  razors  on  the  dressing-table, 
and  then  at  the  pillow  beside  her  where  his  head  rested 
every  night.  She  stooped  and  kissed  it  with  a  little  quiv- 
ering breath.  "  Ahmed.  Oh,  Monseigneur ! 99  she  mur- 
mured longingly.  Then,  with  an  impatient  jerk  of  the 
head,  she  sprang  up  and  dragged  on  her  boots.  She 
pulled  a  soft  felt  hat  down  over  her  eyes  and  picked  up  the 
revolver  the  Sheik  had  given  her.  She  paused  a  moment, 
looking  at  it  with  an  odd  smile  before  buckling  it  round 
her  slim  waist.  Gaston's  face  lit  up  with  genuine  pleas- 
ure when  she  came  out  to  the  horses.  She  had  felt  a 
momentary  embarrassment  before  she  left  the  tent,  think- 
ing of  the  last  time  he  had  ridden  with  her,  but  she  had 
known  from  the  moment  he  came  back  that  night  that  he 
bore  no  malice,  and  the  look  on  his  face  and  his  stam- 
mered words  to  the  Sheik  had  indicated  that  the  fear  he 
felt  for  her  was  not  for  what  might  have  happened  in  the 
desert,  but  for  what  might  yet  happen  to  her  at  the  hands 
of  his  master  and  hers. 


THE  SHEIK 


157 


The  horse  that  she  rode  always  now  was  pure  white, 
not  so  fast  as  Silver  Star  and  very  tricky,  called  The 
Dancer,  from  a  nervous  habit  of  dancing  on  his  hind-legs 
at  starting  and  stopping,  like  a  circus-horse.  He  was 
difficult  to  mount,  and  edged  away  shyly  as  Diana  tried 
to  get  her  foot  into  the  stirrup.  But  she  swung  up  at 
last,  and  by  the  time  The  Dancer  had  finished  his  display 
of  haute  ecole  Gaston  was  mounted.  u  After  riding  The 
Dancer  I  feel  confident  to  enter  for  the  Concours  Hip  pi- 
que/' she  laughed  over  her  shoulder,  and  touched  the  horse 
with  her  heel. 

She  wanted  exercise  primarily,  hard  physical  exercise 
that  would  tire  her  out  and  keep  her  mind  occupied  and 
prevent  her  from  thinking,  and  the  horse  she  rode  sup- 
plied both  needs.  He  required  watching  all  the  time. 
She  let  him  out  to  his  full  pace  for  his  own  sake  and 
hers,  and  the  air  and  the  movement  banished  her  head- 
ache, and  a  kind  of  exhilaration  came  over  her,  making 
her  almost  happy.  After  a  while  she  reined  in  her  horse 
and  waved  to  Gaston  to  come  alongside.  "  Tell  me  of 
this  Vicomte  de  Saint  Hubert  who  is  coming.  You 
know  him,  I  suppose,  as  you  have  been  so  long  with 
Monseigneur  ?  " 

Gaston  smiled.  "  I  knew  him  before  Monseigneur  did. 
I  was  born  on  the  estate  of  Monsieur  le  Comte  de  Saint 
Hubert,  the  father  of  Monsieur  le  Vicomte.  I  and  my 
twin  brother  Henri.  We  both  went  into  Monsieur's  k 
Comte's  training  stables,  and  then  after  our  time  in  the 
Cavalry  Henri  became  valet  to  Monsieur  le  Vicomte,  and 
I  came  to  Monseigneur." 

Diana  took  off  her  hat  and  rubbed  her  forehead  thought- 
fully.   Fifteen  years  ago  Ahmed  must  have  been  about 


158 


THE  SHEIK 


twenty.  Why  should  an  Arab  chief  of  that  age,  or  any 
age,  indulge  in  such  an  anomaly  as  a  French  valet,  or  for 
that  matter  why  should  a  French  valet  attach  himself  to 
an  Arab  Sheik  and  exile  himself  in  the  wilds  of  the 
desert?  Whichever  way  she  turned,  the  mystery  of  the 
man  she  loved  seemed  to  crop  up.  She  started  arguing 
with  herself  in  a  circle  —  why  should  the  Sheik  have  a 
European  servant  or  why  should  he  not,  until  she  gave  it 
up  in  hopeless  confusion. 

She  turned  to  Gaston  with  the  intention  of  asking  fur- 
ther of  the  coming  visitor,  and,  keeping  The  Dancer  as 
still  as  she  could,  sat  looking  at  the  valet  with  great, 
questioning  eyes,  fanning  her  hot  face  with  her  hat. 
Gaston,  whose  own  horse  stood  like  a  rock,  was  frankly 
mopping  his  forehead.  Diana  decided  against  any  more 
questions.  Gaston  would  naturally  be  hopelessly  biased, 
having  been  born  and  brought  up  in  the  shadow  of  the 
family,  and  after  all  she  would  rather  judge  for  herself. 
One  inquiry  only  she  permitted  herself :  "  The  family 
of  Saint  Hubert,  are  they  of  the  old  or  the  new 
noblesse ?  " 

"Of  the  old,  Madame,"  replied  Gaston  quickly. 

Diana  coaxed  her  nervous  mount  close  beside  his 
steadier  companion,  and,  thrusting  his  bridle  and  her  hat 
into  Gaston's  hands,  slipped  to  the  ground  and  walked 
away  a  little  distance  to  the  top  of  a  small  mound.  She 
sat  down  on  the  summit  with  her  back  to  the  horses  and 
her  arms  clasped  round  her  knees.  All  that  the  coming 
of  this  strange  man  meant  to  her  rushed  suddenly  over 
her.  He  was  a  man,  obviously,  who  moved  in  the  world, 
her  world,  since  he  apparently  travelled  extensively  and 
his  father  was  wealthy  enough  to  run  a  racing  stable 


THE  SHEIK 


159 


as  a  hobby  and  was  a  member  of  the  dwindling  class  of 
ancienne  noblesse.  It  was  characteristic  of  her  that  she 
put  first  what  she  did.  How  could  she  bear  to  meet  one 
of  her  own  order  in  the  position  in  which  she  was?  She 
who  had  been  proud  Diana  Mayo  and  now  —  the  mistress 
of  an  Arab  Sheik?  She  laid  her  face  on  her  knees  with 
a  shudder.  The  ordeal  before  her  cut  like  a  knife  into 
her  heart.  The  pride  that  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had  not 
yet  killed  flamed  up  and  racked  her  with  humiliation 
and  shame,  the  shame  that  still  seared  her  soul  like  a 
hot  iron,  so  that  there  were  moments  she  could  not  bear 
even  the  presence  of  the  man  who  had  made  her  what 
she  was,  in  spite  of  the  love  she  bore  him,  and,  pleading 
fever,  prayed  to  be  alone.  Not  that  he  ever  granted  her 
prayer,  for  he  knew  fever  when  he  saw  it,  but  would  pull 
her  down  beside  him  with  a  mocking  laugh  that  still  had 
the  power  to  hurt  so  much.  The  thought  of  what  it 
would  be  to  her  to  meet  his  friend  had  presumably 
never  entered  his  mind,  or  if  it  had  it  had  made  no  im- 
pression and  been  dismissed  as  negligible.  It  was  the 
point  of  view,  she  supposed  drearily ;  the  standpoint  from 
which  he  looked  at  things  was  fundamentally  different 
from  her  own  —  racially  and  temperamentally  they  were 
poles  apart.  To  him  she  was  only  the  woman  held  in 
bondage,  a  thing  of  no  account.  She  sat  very  still  fot 
a  while  with  her  face  hidden,  until  a  discreet  cough  from 
Gaston  warned  her  that  time  was  flying.  She  went 
back  to  the  horses  slowly  with  white  face  and  compressed 
lips.  There  was  the  usual  trouble  in  mounting,  and 
her  strained  nerves  made  her  impatient  of  The  Dancer's 
idiosyncrasies,  and  she  checked  him  sharply,  making  him 
rear  dangerously. 


i6o 


THE  SHEIK 


"  Careful,  Madame,"  cried  Gaston  warningly. 

"  For  whom  —  me  or  Monseigneur's  horse  ?  99  she  re- 
torted bitterly,  and  ignoring  her  hat,  which  Gaston  held 
out  to  her  with  reproachful  eyes,  she  spurred  the  horse 
viciously,  making  him  break  into  a  headlong  gallop.  It 
had  got  to  be  gone  through,  so  get  it  over  as  soon  as 
possible.  And  behind  her,  Gaston,  for  the  first  time  in 
all  his  long  service,  cursed  the  master  he  would  cheerfully 
have  died  for. 

The  horse's  nerves,  like  her  own,  were  on  edge,  and 
he  pulled  badly,  his  smooth  satiny  neck  growing  dark 
and  seamed  with  sweat;  Diana  needed  all  her  knowl- 
edge to  control  him,  and  she  began  to  wonder  if  when 
they  came  to  the  camp  she  would  be  able  to  stop  him. 
She  topped  an  undulation  that  was  some  little  distance 
from  the  tents  with  misgivings,  and  wrapped  the  reins 
round  her  hands  to  prevent  them  slipping  through  her 
fingers.  As  they  neared  she  saw  the  Sheik  standing  out- 
side his  tent,  with  a  tall,  thin  man  beside  him.  She  had 
only  a  glimpse  of  dark,  unruly  hair  and  a  close-cut 
beard  as  she  shot  past,  unable  to  pull  up  The  Dancer. 
But  just  beyond  the  tent,  with  the  reins  cutting  into  her 
hands,  she  managed  to  haul  him  round  and  bring  him 
back.  A  couple  of  grooms  jumped  to  his  head,  but, 
owing  to  his  peculiar  tactics,  landed  short,  and  he 
pranced  to  his  own  satisfaction  and  Diana's  rage,  until 
the  amusement  of  it  passed  and  he  let  himself  be  caught. 
Diana  had  done  nothing  to  stop  him  once  she  had  man- 
aged to  turn  him.  If  the  horse  chose  to  behave  like  a 
fool  she  was  not  going  to  be  made  to  look  foolish  by 
fighting  him  when  she  knew  that  it  was  useless.  In  the 
hands  of  the  men  he  sidled  and  snorted,  and,  dropping 


THE  SHEIK 


161 


the  reins,  Diana  pulled  off  her  gloves  and  sat  for  a  mo- 
ment rubbing  her  sore  hands.  Then  the  Sheik  came 
forward  and  she  slid  down.  Before  looking  at  him  she 
turned  and,  catching  at  The  Dancer's  head,  struck  him 
angrily  over  the  nose  with  her  thick  riding-gloves  and 
watched  him  led  away,  plunging  and  protesting,  pulling 
the  gloves  through  her  fingers  nervously,  until  Ahmed 
Ben  Hassan's  voice  made  her  turn. 

"  Diane,  the  Vicomte  de  Saint  Hubert  waits  to  be  pre- 
sented to  you." 

She  drew  herself  up  and  the  colour  that  had  come  into 
her  face  drained  out  of  it  again.  Slowly  she  glanced  up 
at  the  man  standing  before  her,  and  looked  straight  into 
the  most  sympathetic  eyes  that  her  own  sad,  defiant  ones 
had  ever  seen.  Only  for  a  moment,  then  he  bowed  with 
a  conventional  murmur  that  was  barely  audible. 

His  lack  of  words  gave  her  courage.  "  Monsieur/' 
she  said  coldly  in  response  to  his  greeting,  then  turned  to 
the  Sheik  without  looking  at  him.  "  The  Dancer  has 
behaved  abominably.  Gaston,  my  hat,  please !  Thanks." 
And  vanished  into  the  tent  without  a  further  look  at  any 
one. 

It  was  late,  but  she  lingered  over  her  bath  and  changed 
with  slow  reluctance  into  the  green  dress  that  the  Sheik 
preferred  —  a  concession  that  she  despised  herself  fot 
making.  She  had  taken  up  the  jade  necklace  when  he 
joined  her. 

He  turned  her  to  him  roughly,  with  his  hands  on  her 
shoulders,  and  the  merciless  pressure  of  his  fingers  was 
indication  enough  without  the  black  scowl  on  his  face 
that  he  was  angry.  "You  are  not  very  cordial  to  my 
guest." 


THE  SHEIK 


"Is  it  required  of  a  slave  to  be  cordial  towards  hef 
master's  friends  ?  "  she  replied  in  a  stifled  voice, 

"  What  is  required  is  obedience  to  my  wishes,"  he 
said  harshly. 

"  And  is  it  your  wish  that  I  should  please  this  French- 
man ?  " 

"  It  is  my  wish." 

"If  I  were  a  woman  of  your  own  race  "  she  be- 
gan bitterly,  but  he  interrupted  her. 

"If  you  were  a  woman  of  my  own  race  there  would  be 
no  question  of  it,"  he  said  coldly.  "  You  would  be  for 
the  eyes  of  no  other  man  than  me.  But  since  you  are 
not — — "  He  broke  off  with  an  enigmatical  jerk  of  the 
head. 

"  Since  I  am  not  you  are  less  merciful  than  if  I 
was,"  she  cried  miserably.  "  I  could  wish  that  I  was  an 
Arab  woman." 

"  I  doubt  it,"  he  said  grimly.  "  The  life  of  an  Arab 
woman  would  hardly  be  to  your  taste.  We  teach  our 
women  obedience  with  a  whip." 

"Why  have  you  changed  so  since  this  morning,"  she 
whispered,  "  when  you  told  me  that  you  trusted  no  one 
to  climb  to  my  balcony  in  the  hotel  but  yourself?  Are 
you  not  an  Arab  now  as  then?  Have  I  become  of  so 
little  value  to  you  that  you  are  not  even  jealous  any 
more  ?  " 

"  I  can  trust  my  friend,  and  —  I  do  not  propose  to 
share  you  with  him,"  he  said  brutally. 

She  winced  as  if  he  had  struck  her,  and  hid  her  face 
in  her  hands  with  a  low  cry. 

His  fingers  gripped  her  shoulder  cruelly.    "  You  will 


THE  SHEIK 


163 


do  as  I  wish  ? "  The  words  were  a  question,  but  the 
intonation  was  a  command. 

"  I  have  no  choice,"  she  murmured  faintly. 

His  hands  dropped  to  his  sides  and  he  turned  to  leave 
the  room,  but  she  caught  his  arm.  "  Monseigneur ! 
Have  you  no  pity  ?    Will  you  not  spare  me  this  ordeal  ?  " 

He  made  a  gesture  of  refusal.  "  You  exaggerate,"  he 
said  impatiently,  brushing  her  hand  from  his  arm. 

'•'If  you  will  be  merciful  this  once  "  she  pleaded 

breathlessly,  but  he  cut  her  short  with  a  fierce  oath. 

"  If?  "  he  echoed.  "  Do  you  make  bargains  with  me? 
Have  you  so  much  yet  to  learn  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  little  weary  sigh.  The 
changing  mood  that  she  had  set  herself  to  watch  for  had 
come  upon  him  suddenly  and  found  her  unprepared. 
The  gentleness  of  the  morning  had  vanished  and  he  had 
reverted  to  the  tyrannical,  arbitrary  despot  of  two  months 
ago.  She  knew  that  it  was  her  own  fault.  She  knew 
him  well  enough  to  know  that  he  was  intolerant  of  any 
interference  with  his  wishes.  She  had  learned  the  futil- 
ity of  setting  her  determination  against  his.  There  was 
one  master  in  his  camp,  whose  orders,  however  difficult, 
must  be  obeyed. 

His  attention  had  concentrated  on  a  broken  finger- 
nail, and  he  turned  to  the  dressing-table  for  a  knife. 
She  followed  him  with  her  eyes  and  watched  him  care- 
fully trimming  the  nail.  She  had  often,  amongst  the 
many  things  that  puzzled  her,  wondered  at  the  fastidious 
care  he  took  of  his  well-manicured  hands.  The  light  of 
the  lamp  fell  full  on  his  face,  and  there  was  a  dull  ache 
in  her  heart  as  she  looked  at  him.    He  demanded  im» 


THE  SHEIK 


plicit  obedience,  and  only  a  few  hours  before  she  had 
made  up  her  mind  to  unreserved  submission,  and  she 
had  broken  down  at  the  first  test.  The  proof  of  her 
obedience  was  a  hard  one,  from  which  she  shrank,  but 
it  was  harder  far  to  see  the  look  of  anger  she  had  pro- 
voked on  the  face  of  the  man  she  loved.  For  two  months 
of  wild  happiness  it  had  been  absent,  the  black  scowl  she 
had  learned  to  dread  had  not  been  directed  at  her,  and 
the  fierce  eyes  had  looked  at  her  with  only  kindness  or 
amusement  shining  in  their  dark  depths.  Anything 
could  be  borne  but  a  continuance  of  his  displeasure. 
No  sacrifice  was  too  great  to  gain  his  forgiveness.  She 
could  not  bear  his  anger.  She  longed  so  desperately  for 
happiness,  and  she  loved  him  so  passionately,  so  utterly, 
that  she  was  content  to  give  up  everything  to  his  will. 
If  she  could  only  get  back  the  man  of  the  last  few  weeks, 
if  she  had  not  angered  him  too  far.  She  was  at  his 
feet,  tamed  thoroughly  at  last,  all  her  proud,  angry  self- 
will  swamped  in  the  love  that  was  consuming  her  with  an 
intensity  that  was  an  agony.  Love  was  a  bitter  pain,  a 
torment  that  was  almost  unendurable,  a  happiness  that 
mocked  her  with  its  hollowness,  a  misery  that  tortured 
her  with  visions  of  what  might  have  been.  She  went 
to  him  slowly,  and  he  turned  to  her  abruptly. 

"  Well  ?  "  His  voice  was  hard  and  uncompromising, 
and  the  flash  of  his  eyes  was  like  the  tiger's  in  the  Indian 
jungle. 

She  set  her  teeth  to  keep  down  the  old  paralysing  fear. 

"  I  will  do  what  you  want.  I  will  do  anything  you 
want,  only  be  kind  to  me,  Ahmed,"'  she  whispered  unstead- 
ily. She  had  never  called  him  by  his  name  before;  she 
did  not  even  know  that  she  had  done  so  now,  but  at  the 


THE  SHEIK 


sound  of  it  a  curious  look  crossed  his  face,  and  he  drew 
her  into  his  arms  with  hands  that  were  as  gentle  as  they 
had  been  cruel  before.  She  let  him  lift  her  face  to  his, 
and  met  his  searching  gaze  bravely.  Holding  her  look 
with  the  mesmerism  that  he  could  exert  when  he  chose, 
he  read  in  her  face  her  final  surrender,  and  knew  that 
while  it  pleased  him  to  keep  her  he  had  broken  her 
utterly  to  his  hand.  A  strange  expression  grew  in  his 
eyes  as  they  travelled  slowly  over  her.  She  was  like  a 
fragile  reed  in  his  strong  grasp  that  he  could  crush  with- 
out an  effort,  and  yet  for  four  months  she  had  fought 
him,  matching  his  determination  with  a  courage  that 
had  won  his  admiration  even  while  it  had  exasperated 
him.  He  knew  she  feared  him,  he  had  seen  terror  leap 
into  her  flickering  eyes  when  she  had  defied  him  most. 
Her  defiance  and  her  hatred,  which  had  piqued  him  by 
contrast  with  the  fawning  adulation  to  which  he  had  been 
accustomed  and  which  had  wearied  him  infinitely,  had 
provoked  in  him  a  fixed  resolve  to  master  her.  Before 
he  tired  of  her  she  must  yield  her  will  to  him  absolutely. 
And  to-night  he  knew  that  the  last  struggle  had  been 
made,  that  she  would  never  oppose  him  again,  that  she 
was  clay  in  his  hands  to  do  with  as  he  would.  And 
the  knowledge  that  he  had  won  gave  him  no  feeling  of 
exultation,  instead  a  vague,  indefinite  sense  of  irritation 
swept  over  him  and  made  him  swear  softly  under  his 
breath.  The  satisfaction  he  had  expected  in  his  triumph 
was  lacking  and  the  unaccountable  dissatisfaction  that 
filled  him  seemed  inexplicable.  He  did  not  understand 
himself,  and  he  looked  down  at  her  again  with  a  touch 
of  impatience.  She  was  very  lovely,  he  thought,  with  a 
etrange  new  appreciation  of  the  beauty  he  had  appro- 


THE  SHEIK 


priated,  and  very  womanly  in  the  soft,  clinging  green 
dress.  The  slim,  boyish  figure  that  rode  with  him  had  a 
charm  all  its  own,  but  it  was  the  woman  in  her  that  sent 
the  hot  blood  racing  through  his  veins  and  made  his 
heart  beat  as  it  was  beating  now.  His  eyes  lingered  a 
moment  on  her  bright  curls,  on  her  dark-fringed,  plead- 
ing eyes  and  on  her  bare  neck,  startlingly  white  against 
the  jade  green  of  her  gown,  then  he  put  her  from  him. 

"  Va"  he  said  gently,  " depeche-toi" 

She  looked  after  him  as  he  went  through  the  curtains 
with  a  long,  sobbing  sigh.  She  was  paying  a  heavy 
price  for  her  happiness,  but  she  would  have  paid  a 
heavier  one  willingly.  Nothing  mattered  now  that  he 
was  not  angry  any  more.  She  knew  what  her  total  sub- 
mission meant:  it  was  an  end  to  all  individualism,  a 
complete  self-abnegation,  an  absolute  surrender  to  his 
wishes,  his  moods  and  his  temper.  And  she  was  content 
that  it  should  be  so,  her  love  was  prepared  to  endure 
whatever  he  might  put  upon  her.  Nothing  that  he  could 
do  could  alter  that,  and  nothing  should  make  her  own  her 
love.  She  had  hidden  it  from  him,  and  she  would  hide  it 
from  him  —  cost  what  it  might.  Though  he  did  not  love 
her  he  wanted  her  still ;  she  had  read  that  in  his  eyes  five 
minutes  ago,  and  she  was  happy  even  for  that. 

She  turned  to  the  glass  suddenly  and  wrenched  the 
silk  folds  off  her  shoulder.  She  looked  at  the  marks  of 
his  fingers  on  the  delicate  skin  with  a  twist  of  the  lips, 
then  shut  her  eyes  with  a  little  gasp  and  hid  her  bruised 
arm  hastily,  her  mouth  quivering.  But  she  did  not 
blame  him,  she  had  brought  it  on  herself ;  she  knew  his 
mood,  and  he  did  not  know  his  own  strength. 


THE  SHEIK 


167 


"If  he  killed  me  he  could  not  kill  my  love,"  she  mur- 
mured, with  a  little  pitiful  smile. 

The  men  were  waiting  for  her,  and  with  a  murmured 
apology  for  her  lateness  she  took  her  place.  The  Sheik 
and  his  guest  resumed  the  conversation  that  her  entrance 
had  interrupted.  Diana's  thoughts  were  in  confusion. 
She  felt  as  if  she  were  in  some  wild,  improbable  dream. 
An  Arab  Sheik,  a  French  explorer,  and  herself  playing 
the  conventional  hostess  in  the  midst  of  lawless  uncon- 
ventionalism.  She  looked  around  the  tent  that  had  be- 
come so  familiar,  so  dear.  It  seemed  different  to-night, 
as  if  the  advent  of  the  stranger  had  introduced  a  foreign 
atmosphere.  She  had  grown  so  accustomed  to  the  rou- 
tine that  had  been  imposed  upon  her  that  even  the 
Vicomte's  servant  standing  behind  his  master  seemed 
strange.  The  man's  likeness  to  his  twin  brother  was 
striking,  the  only  difference  being  that  while  Gaston's 
face  was  clean-shaven,  Henri's  upper  lip  was  hidden  by 
a  neat,  dark  moustache.  The  service  was,  as  always,  per- 
fect, silent  and  quick. 

She  glanced  at  the  Sheik  covertly.  There  was  a  look 
on  his  face  that  she  had  never  seen  and  a  ring  in  his 
voice  that  was  different  even  from  the  tone  she  had  heard 
when  Gaston  had  come  back  on  the  night  of  her  flight. 
That  had  been  relief  and  the  affection  of  a  man  for  a 
valued  servant,  this  was  the  deep  affection  of  a  man  for 
the  one  chosen  friend,  the  love  passing  the  love  of  women. 
And  the  jealousy  she  had  felt  in  the  morning  welled  up 
uncontrollably.  She  looked  from  the  Sheik  to  the  man 
who  was  absorbing  all  his  attention,  but  in  his  pale,  clever 
face,  half  hidden  by  the  close  beard,  she  saw  no  trace  of 


,i68 


THE  SHEIK 


the  conceited,  smirking  egotist  she  had  imagined,  and  his 
voice,  as  low  as  the  Sheik's,  but  more  animated,  was  not 
the  voice  o£  a  man  unduly  elated  or  conscious  of  himself. 
And  as  she  looked  her  eyes  met  his.  A  smile  that  was 
extraordinarily  sweet  and  half-sad  lit  up  his  face. 

"  Is  it  permitted  to  admire  Madame's  horsemanship  ?  " 
he  asked,  with  a  little  bow. 

Diana  coloured  faintly  and  twisted  the  jade  necklace 
round  her  fingers  nervously.  "  It  is  nothing,"  she  said, 
with  a  shy  smile  that  his  sympathetic  personality  evoked 
in  spite  of  herself.  "  With  The  Dancer  it  is  all  foolish- 
ness and  not  vice.  One  has  to  hold  on  very  tightly.  It 
would  have  been  humiliating  to  precipitate  myself  at  the 
feet  of  a  stranger.  Monseigneur  would  not  have  ap- 
proved of  the  concession  to  The  Dancer's  peculiarities. 
It  is  an  education  to  ride  his  horses,  Monsieur." 

"  It  is  a  strain  to  the  nerves  to  ride  beside  some  of 
them,"  replied  the  Vicomte  pointedly. 

Diana  laughed  with  pure  amusement.  The  man  whose 
coming  she  had  loathed  was  making  the  dreadful  ordeal 
very  easy  for  her.  "  I  sympathise,  Monsieur.  Was 
Shaitan  very  vile  ?  " 

"If  Monsieur  de  Saint  Hubert  is  trying  to  suggest  to 
you  that  he  suffers  from  nerves,  Diane,"  broke  in  the 
Sheik,  with  a  laugh,  "  disabuse  yourself  at  once.  He  has 
none." 

Saint  Hubert  turned  to  him  with  a  quick  smile.  "  Et 
toi,  Ahmed,  eh?  Do  you  remember — —  ?"  and  he 
plunged  into  a  flood  of  reminiscences  that  lasted  until  the 
end  of  dinner. 

The  Vicomte  had  brought  with  him  a  pile  of  news- 
papers and  magazines,  and  Diana  curled  up  on  the  divan 


THE  SHEIK 


169 


with  an  armful,  hungry  for  news,  but,  somehow,  as  she 
dipped  into  the  batch  of  papers  her  interest  waned.  After 
four  months  of  complete  isolation  it  was  difficult  to  pick 
up  the  threads  of  current  events,  allusions  were  incom- 
prehensible, and  controversies  seemed  pointless.  The 
happenings  of  the  world  appeared  tame  beside  the  great 
adventure  that  was  carrying  her  on  irresistibly  and  whose 
end  she  could  not  see  and  dared  not  think  of.  She 
pushed  them  aside  carelessly  and  kept  only  on  her  knee 
a  magazine  that  served  as  a  pretext  for  her  silence. 

When  Gaston  brought  coffee  the  Vicomte  hailed  him 
with  a  gay  laugh.  M  En  fin,  Gaston,  after  two  years  the 
nectar  of  the  gods  again!  There  is  a  new  machine  for 
you  amongst  my  things,  mon  ami,  providing  it  has  sur- 
vived Henri's  packing." 

He  brought  a  cup  to  Diana  and  set  it  on  a  stool  beside 
her.  "  Ahmed  flatters  himself  I  come  to  see  him, 
Madame.  I  do  not.  I  come  to  drink  Gaston's  coffee.  It 
has  become  proverbial,  the  coffee  of  Gaston.  I  propitiate 
him  every  time  I  come  with  a  new  apparatus  for  making 
it.  The  last  is  a  marvel  of  ingenuity.  Excuse  me,  I  go  to 
drink  it  with  the  reverence  it  inspires.  It  is  a  rite, 
Madame,  not  a  gastronomic  indulgence." 

Once  more  the  sympathetic  eyes  looked  straight  into 
hers,  and  the  quick  blood  rushed  into  her  face  as  she  bent 
her  head  again  hurriedly  over  the  magazine.  She  knew 
instinctively  that  he  was  trying  to  help  her,  talking  non- 
sense with  a  tact  that  ignored  her  equivocal  position. 
She  was  grateful  to  him,  but  even  his  chivalry  hurt.  She 
watched  him  under  her  thick  lashes  as  he  went  back  to 
the  Sheik  and  sat  down  beside  him,  refusing  his  host's 
proffered  cigarettes  with  a  wry  face  of  disgust  and  a 


17° 


THE  SHEIK 


laughing  reference  to  a  "  perverted  palate,"  as  he  searched 
for  his  own.  The  hatred  she  had  been  prepared  to  give 
him  had  died  away  during  dinner  —  only  the  jealousy 
remained,  and  even  that  had  changed  from  its  first  in- 
tensity to  an  envy  that  brought  a  sob  into  her  throat. 
She  envied  him  the  light  that  shone  in  the  Arab's  dark 
eyes,  she  envied  him  the  intonation  of  the  soft  slow  voice 
she  loved.  Her  eyes  turned  to  the  Sheik.  He  was  lean- 
ing back  with  his  hands  clasped  behind  his  head,  talking 
with  a  cigarette  between  his  teeth.  His  attitude  towards 
his  European  friend  was  that  of  an  equal,  the  haughty, 
peremptory  accent  that  was  noticeable  when  he  spoke  to 
his  followers  was  gone,  and  a  flat  contradiction  from 
Saint  Hubert  provoked  only  a  laugh  and  a  gesture  of 
acceptance. 

As  they  sat  talking  the  contrast  between  the  two  men 
was  strongly  marked.  Beside  the  Frenchman's  thin, 
spare  frame  and  pale  face,  which  gave  him  an  air  of 
delicacy,  the  Sheik  looked  like  a  magnificent  animal  in 
superb  condition,  and  his  quiet  repose  accentuated  the 
Vicomte's  quick,  nervous  manner.  Under  the  screen  of 
her  thick  lashes  Diana  watched  them  unheeded.  Their 
voices  rose  and  fell  continuously ;  they  seemed  to  have  a 
great  deal  to  say  to  each  other,  and  they  talked  indis- 
criminately French  and  Arabic  so  that  much  that  they 
said  was  incomprehensible  to  her.  She  was  glad  that  it 
should  be  so,  she  did  not  want  to  know  what  they  were 
saying.  It  seemed  as  if  they  had  forgotten  her  presence 
with  the  accumulated  conversation  of  two  years.  She 
was  thankful  to  be  left  alone,  happy  for  the  rare  chance 
of  studying  the  beloved  face  unnoticed.  It  was  seldom 
she  had  the  opportunity,  for  when  they  were  alone  she 


THE  SHEIK 


171 


was  afraid  to  look  at  him  much  lest  her  secret  should  be 
betrayed  in  her  eyes.  But  she  looked  at  him  now  un- 
observed, with  passionate  longing.  She  was  so  intent  that 
she  did  not  notice  Gaston  come  in  until  he  seemed  sud- 
denly to  appear  from  nowhere  beside  his  master.  He 
murmured  something  softly  and  the  Sheik  got  up.  He 
turned  to  Saint  Hubert. 

"  Trouble  with  one  of  the  horses.  Will  you  come?  It 
may  interest  you." 

They  went  out  together,  leaving  her  alone,  and  she 
slipped  away  to  the  inner  room.  In  half-an-hour  they 
came  back,  and  for  a  few  minutes  longer  stayed  chatting, 
then  the  Vicomte  yawned  and  held  out  his  watch  with  a 
laugh.  The  Sheik  went  with  him  to  his  tent  and  sat  down 
on  the  side  of  his  guest's  camp-bed.  Saint  Hubert  dis- 
missed the  waiting  Henri  with  a  noc1.  and  started  to 
undress  silently.  The  flow  of  talk  and  ready  laugh 
seemed  to  have  deserted  him,  and  he  frowned  as  he 
wrenched  his  things  off  with  nervous  irritability. 

The  Sheik  watched  him  for  a  while,  and  then  took  the 
cigarette  out  of  his  mouth  with  a  faint  smile.  "  Eh,  bien ! 
Raoul,  say  it,"  he  said  quietly. 

Saint  Hubert  swung  round.  "  You  might  have  spared 
her,"  he  cried. 

"  What?" 

"  What  ?   Good  God,  man !    Me !  " 

The  Sheik  flicked  the  ash  from  his  cigarette  with  a 
gesture  of  indifference.  "  Your  courier  was  delayed,  he 
only  came  this  morning.  It  was  too  late  then  to  make 
other  arrangements." 

Saint  Hubert  took  a  hasty  turn  up  and  down  the  tent 
and  stopped  in  front  of  the  Sheik  with  his  hands  thrust 


172 


THE  SHEIK 


deep  in  his  pockets  and  his  shoulders  hunched  up  about 
his  ears.  "  It  is  abominable,"  he  burst  out.  "  You  go 
too  far,  Ahmed." 

The  Sheik  laughed  cynically.  "  What  do  you  expect 
of  a  savage?  When  an  Arab  sees  a  woman  that  he 
wants  he  takes  her.  I  only  follow  the  customs  of  my 
people." 

Saint  Hubert  clicked  his  tongue  impatiently.  "  Your 
people !  ■ —  which  people  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  low  voice. 

The  Sheik  sprang  to  his  feet  with  flashing  eyes,  his 
hand   dropping  heavily  on   Saint   Hubert's  shoulder. 

"Stop,  Raoul!    Not  even  from  you  !"  he  cried 

passionately,  and  then  broke  off  abruptly,  and  the  anger 
died  out  of  his  face.  He  sat  down  again  quietly,  with  a 
little  amused  laugh.  "  Why  this  sudden  access  of  moral- 
ity, mon  ami?  ~iou  know  me  and  the  life  I  lead.  You 
have  seen  women  in  my  camp  before  now." 

Saint  Hubert  dismissed  the  remark  with  a  contempt- 
uous wave  of  the  hand.  "  There  is  ro  comparison.  You 
know  it  as  well  as  I,"  he  said  succinctly.  He  moved  over 
slowly  to  the  camp  table,  where  his  toilet  things  had  been 
laid  out,  and  began  removing  the  links  from  the  cuffs  of 
his  shirt.  "  She  is  English,  surely  that  is  reason  enough," 
he  flung  over  his  shoulder. 

"  You  ask  me,  me  to  spare  a  woman  because  she  is 
English?  My  good  Raoul,  you  amuse  me,"  replied  the 
Sheik,  with  an  ugly  sneer. 

"Where  did  you  see  her?"  asked  Saint  Hubert  curi- 
ously. 

"  In  the  streets  of  Biskra,  for  five  minutes,  four  months 
ago." 

Jhe  Vicomte  turned  quickly.   "You  love  her?"  he 


THE  SHEIK 


173 


shot  out,  with  all  the  suddenness  of  an  American  third 
degree. 

The  Sheik  exhaled  a  long,  thin  cloud  of  blue  smoke  and 
watched  it  eddying  towards  the  top  of  the  tent.  "  Have 
I  ever  loved  a  woman?  And  this  woman  is  English,"  he 
said  in  a  voice  as  hard  as  steel. 

"  If  you  loved  her  you  would  not  care  for  her  nation- 
ality." 

The  Sheik  spat  the  end  of  his  cigarette  on  to  the  floor 
contemptuously.  "  By  Allah !  Her  cursed  race  sticks  in 
my  throat.  But  for  that  "  He  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders impatiently  and  got  up  from  the  bed  on  which  he 
was  sitting. 

"  Let  her  go  then,"  said  Saint  Hubert  quickly.  "  I  can 
take  her  back  to  Biskra." 

The  Sheik  turned  to  him  slowly,  a  sudden  flame  of 
fierce  jealousy  leaping  into  his  eyes.  "  Has  she  be- 
witched you,  too?  Do  you  want  her  for  yourself, 
Raoul  ? "  His  voice  was  as  low  as  ever,  but  there  was  a 
dangerous  ring  in  it. 

Saint  Hubert  flung  his  hands  out  in  a  gesture  of  de- 
spair. "  Ahmed !  Are  you  mad  ?  Are  you  going  to 
quarrel  with  me  after  all  these  years  on  such  a  pretext? 
Bon  Dieu!  What  do  you  take  me  for?  There  has  been 
too  much  in  our  lives  together  ever  to  let  a  woman  come 
between  us.  What  is  a  woman  or  any  one  to  me  where 
you  are  concerned  ?  It  is  for  quite  a  different  reason  that 
I  ask  you,  that  I  beg  you  to  let  this  girl  go." 

"  Forgive  me,  Raoul.  You  know  my  devilish  temper," 
muttered  the  Sheik,  and  for  a  moment  his  hand  rested 
on  Saint  Hubert's  arm. 

"  You  have  not  answered  me,  Ahmed." 


174 


THE  SHEIK 


The  Sheik  turned  away.  "  She  is  content,"  he  said 
evasively. 

"  She  has  courage,"  amended  the  Vicomte  significantly. 

"  As  you  say,  she  has  courage,"  agreed  the  Sheik,  with- 
out a  particle  of  expression  in  his  voice. 

"Bon  sang  "  quoted  Saint  Hubert  softly. 

The  Sheik  swung  round  quickly.  "  How  do  you  know 
she  has  good  blood  in  her  ?  " 

"  It  is  very  evident,"  replied  Saint  Hubert  drily. 

"  That  is  not  what  you  mean.    What  do  you  know  ?  " 

The  Vicomte  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and,  going  to  his 
suit-case,  took  from  it  an  English  illustrated  paper,  and 
opening  it  at  the  central  page  handed  it  to  the  Sheik 
silently. 

Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  moved  closer  to  the  hanging  lamp 
so  that  the  light  fell  directly  on  the  paper  in  his  hands. 
There  were  two  large  full-length  photographs  of  Diana, 
one  in  evening  dress  and  the  other  as  the  Vicomte  had 
first  seen  her,  in  riding  breeches  and  short  jacket,  her  hat 
and  whip  lying  at  her  feet,  and  the  bridle  of  the  horse 
that  was  standing  beside  her  over  her  arm. 

Under  the  photographs  was  written :  "  Miss  Diana 
Mayo,  whose  protracted  journey  in  the  desert  is  causing 
anxiety  to  a  large  circle  of  friends.  Miss  Mayo  left 
Biskra  under  the  guidance  of  a  reputable  caravan-leader 
four  months  ago,  with  the  intention  of  journeying  for  four 
weeks  in  the  desert  and  returning  to  Oran.  Since  the  first 
camp  nothing  has  been  heard  of  Miss  Mayo  or  her  car- 
avan. Further  anxiety  is  occasioned  by  the  fact  thai 
considerable  unrest  is  reported  amongst  the  tribes  in  the 
locality  towards  which  Miss  Mayo  was  travelling.  Her 
brother,  Sir  Aubrey  Mayo,  who  is  detained  in  America  as 


THE  SHEIK 


175 


the  result  of  an  accident,  is  in  constant  cable  communica- 
tion with  the  French  authorities.  Miss  Mayo  is  a  well- 
known  sports-woman  and  has  travelled  widely." 

For  a  long  time  the  Sheik  studied  the  photographs 
silently,  then  with  slow  deliberation  he  tore  the  page  out 
of  the  paper  and  rolled  it  up.  "  With  your  permission/' 
he  said  coolly,  and  held  it  over  the  flame  of  the  little  lamp 
by  the  bedside.  He  held  it  until  the  burning  papef 
charred  to  nothing  in  his  hand  and  then  flicked  the  ashes 
from  his  long  fingers.    "Henri  has  seen  this?" 

"  Unquestionably.  Henri  reads  all  my  papers,"  re- 
plied Saint  Hubert,  with  a  touch  of  impatience. 

"  Then  Henri  can  hold  his  tongue,"  said  the  Sheik 
nonchalantly,  searching  in  the  folds  of  his  waist-cloth  for 
his  case  and  lighting  another  cigarette  with  elaborate  care- 
lessness. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? "  asked  Saint  Hubert 
pointedly. 

"  I?  Nothing !  The  French  authorities  have  too  many 
affairs  on  hand  and  too  high  an  appreciation  of  Ahmed 
Ben  Hassan's  horses  to  prosecute  inquiries  in  my  direc- 
tion. Besides,  they  are  not  responsible.  Mademoiselle 
Mayo  was  warned  of  the  risks  she  ran  before  she  left 
Biskra.    She  chose  to  take  the  risks,  et  voila !  " 

"  Will  nothing  make  you  change  your  mind  ?  " 

u  I  am  not  given  to  changing  my  mind.  You  know  that. 
And,  besides,  why  should  I?  As  I  told  you  before,  she 
is  content." 

Saint  Hubert  looked  him  full  in  the  face.  "  Content ! 
Cowed  is  the  better  word,  Ahmed." 

The  Sheik  laughed  softly.  "  You  flatter  me,  Raoul. 
Do  not  let  us  speak  any  more  about  it.    It  is  an  un- 


176 


THE  SHEIK 


fortunate  contretemps,  and  I  regret  that  it  distresses  you," 
he  said  lightly;  then  with  a  sudden  change  of  manner  he 
laid  his  hands  on  the  Vicomte's  shoulders.  "  But  this  can 
make  no  difference  to  our  friendship,  mon  ami;  that  is  too 
big  a  thing  to  break  down  over  a  difference  of  opinion. 

You  are  a  French  nobleman,  and  I  !  "    He  gave  a 

little  bitter  laugh.  "  I  am  an  uncivilised  Arab.  We  can- 
not see  things  in  the  same  way." 

"  You  could,  but  you  will  not,  Ahmed,"  replied  the 
Vicomte,  with  an  accent  of  regret.  "  It  is  not  worthy  of 
you."  He  paused  and  then  looked  up  again  with  a  little 
crooked  smile  and  a  shrug  of  defeat.  "  Nothing  can  ever 
make  any  difference  with  us,  Ahmed.  I  can  disagree  with 
you,  but  I  can't  wipe  out  the  recollection,  of  the  last  twenty 
years." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  Sheik  left  him  and  went  out 
into  the  night.  He  traversed  the  short  distance  between 
the  tents  slowly,  stopping  to  speak  to  a  sentry,  and  then 
pausing  outside  his  own  tent  to  look  up  at  the  stars. 
The  Persian  hound  that  always  slept  across  the  entrance 
uncurled  himself  and  got  up,  thrusting  a  wet  nose  into 
his  hand.  The  Sheik  fondled  the  huge  creature  absently, 
stroking  the  dcg's  shaggy  head  mechanically,  hardly  con- 
scious of  what  he  was  doing.  A  great  restlessness  that 
was  utterly  foreign  to  his  nature  had  taken  possession  of 
him.  He  had  been  aware  of  it  growing  within  him  for 
some  time,  becoming  stronger  daily,  and  now  the  coming 
of  Raoul  de  Saint  Hubert  seemed  to  have  put  the  crown- 
ing touch  to  a  state  of  mind  that  he  was  unable  to  under- 
stand. He  had  never  been  given  to  thinking  of  himself, 
or  criticising  or  analysing  his  passing  whims  and  fancies. 
All  his  life  he  had  taken  what  he  wanted;  nothing  on 


THE  SHEIK 


which  he  had  ever  laid  eyes  of  desire  had  been  denied  him. 
His  wealth  had  brought  him  everything  he  had  ever 
wished.  His  passionate  temper  had  been  characteristic 
even  when  he  was  a  child,  but  these  strange  fits  of  unrea- 
sonable irritability  were  new,  and  he  searched  for  a  cause 
vainly.  His  keen  eyes  looked  through  the  darkness  to- 
wards the  south.  Was  it  the  nearness  of  his  hereditary 
enemy,  who  had  presumed  to  come  closer  than  he  had  ever 
done  before  to  the  border  of  the  country  that  Ahmed  Ben 
Hassan  regarded  as  his  own,  that  was  causing  this  great 
unrest?  He  laughed  contemptuously.  Nothing  would 
give  him  greater  pleasure  than  coming  into  actual  colli- 
sion with  the  man  whom  he  had  been  trained  from  boy- 
hood to  hate.  As  long  as  Ibraheim  Omair  remained  with- 
in his  own  territory  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  held  his  hand 
and  kept  in  check  his  fierce  followers,  whose  eyes  were 
turned  longingly  towards  the  debatable  land,  but  once 
let  the  robber  Sheik  step  an  inch  over  the  border,  and 
it  was  war,  and  war  until  one  or  both  of  the  chiefs  were 
dead.  And  if  he  died  who  had  no  son  to  succeed  him; 
the  huge  tribe  would  split  up  in  numerous  little  families 
for  want  of  a  leader  to  keep  them  together,  and  it  would 
be  left  to  the  French  Government  to  take  over,  if  they 
could,  the  vast  district  that  he  had  governed  despotically. 
And  at  the  thought  he  laughed  again.  No,  it  was  not 
Ibraheim  Omair  who  was  troubling  him.  He  pushed  the 
hound  aside  and  went  into  the  tent.  The  divan  where 
Diana  had  been  sitting  was  strewn  with  magazines  and 
papers,  the  imprint  of  her  slender  body  still  showed  in 
the  soft,  heaped-up  cushions,  and  a  tiny,  lace-edged  hand- 
kerchief peeped  out  under  one  of  them.  He  picked  it  up 
and  looked  at  it  curiously,  and  his  forehead  contracted 


ITS 


THE  SHEIK 


slowly  in  the  heavy  black  scowl.  He  turned  his  burning 
eyes  toward  the  curtains  that  divided  the  rooms.  Saint 
Hubert's  words  rang  in  his  ears.  "  English ! "  he  mut- 
tered with  a  terrible  oath.  "  And  I  have  made  her  suffer 
as  I  swore  any  of  that  damned  race  should  if  they  fell 
into  my  hands.  Merciful  Allah!  Why  does  it  give  me 
so  little  pleasure  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VII 


Diana  came  into  the  living-room  one  morning  about  a 
week  after  the  arrival  of  the  Vicomte  de  Saint  Hubert. 
She  had  expected  to  find  the  room  empty,  for  the  Sheik 
had  risen  at  dawn  and  ridden  away  on  one  of  the  distant 
expeditions  that  had  become  so  frequent,  and  she  thought 
his  friend  had  accompanied  him,  but  as  she  parted  the 
curtains  between  the  two  rooms  she  saw  the  Frenchman 
sitting  at  the  little  writing-table  surrounded  by  papers  and 
writing  quickly,  loose  sheets  of  manuscript  littering  the 
floor  around  him.  It  was  the  first  time  that  they  had 
chanced  to  be  alone,  and  she  hesitated  with  a  sudden  shy- 
ness. But  Saint  Hubert  had  heard  the  rustle  of  the  cur- 
tain, and  he  sprang  to  his  feet  with  the  courteous  bow 
that  proclaimed  his  nationality. 

"  Your  pardon,  Madame.  Do  I  disturb  you  ?  Tell  me 
if  I  am  in  the  way.  I  am  afraid  I  have  been  very  untidy," 
he  added,  laughing  apologetically,  and  looking  at  the  heap 
of  closely-written  sheets  strewing  the  rug. 

Diana  came  forward  slowly,  a  faint  colour  rising  in  her 
face.    "  I  thought  you  had  gone  with  Monseigneur." 

"  I  had  some  work  to  do  —  some  notes  that  I  wanted  to 
transcribe  before  I  forgot  myself  what  they  meant ;  I  write 
vilely.  I  have  had  a  hard  week,  too,  so  I  begged  a  day 
off.    I  may  stay  ?    You  are  sure  I  do  not  disturb  you  ?  " 

His  sympathetic  eyes  and  the  deference  in  his  voice 
brought  an  unexpected  lump  into  her  throat.  She  signed 
I7f 


i8o 


THE  SHEIK 


to  him  to  resume  his  work  and  passed  out  under  the 
awning.  Behind  the  tent  the  usual  camp  hubbub  filled  the 
air.  A  knot  of  Arabs  at  a  little  distance  were  watching 
one  of  the  rough-riders  schooling  a  young  horse,  noisily 
critical  and  offering  advice  freely,  undeterred  by  the  in- 
difference with  which  it  was  received.  Others  lounged 
past  engaged  on  the  various  duties  connected  with  the 
camp,  with  the  Eastern  disregard  for  time  that  relegated 
till  to-morrow  everything  that  could  possibly  be  neglected 
to-day.  Near  her  one  of  the  older  men,  more  rigid  in 
his  observances  than  the  generality  of  Ahmed  Ben  Has- 
san's followers,  was  placidly  absorbed  in  his  devotions, 
prostrating  himself  and  fulfilling  his  ritual  with  the 
sublime  lack  of  self-consciousness  of  the  Mohammedan 
devotee. 

Outside  his  own  tent  the  valet  and  Henri  were  sitting 
in  the  sun,  Gaston  on  an  upturned  bucket,  cleaning  a 
rifle,  and  his  brother  stretched  full  length  on  the  ground, 
idly  flapping  at  the  flies  with  the  duster  with  which  he 
had  been  polishing  the  Vicomte's  riding-boots.  Both  men 
were  talking  rapidly  with  frequent  little  bursts  of  gay 
laughter.  The  Persian  hound  was  lying  at  their  feet. 
He  raised  his  head  as  Diana  appeared,  and,  rising,  went  to 
her  slowly,  rearing  up  against  her  with  a  paw  on  each 
shoulder,  making  clumsy  efforts  to  lick  her  face,  and  she 
pushed  him  down  with  difficulty,  stooping  to  kiss  his 
shaggy  head. 

She  looked  away  across  the  desert  beyond  the  last 
palms  of  the  oasis.  A  haze  hung  round  about,  shimmer- 
ing in  the  heat  and  blurring  the  outline  of  the  distant  hills. 
A  tiny  breeze  brought  the  acrid  smell  of  camels  closer 
to  her,  and  the  creaking  whine  of  the  tackling  over  the 


THE  SHEIK 


well  sounded  not  very  far  away.  Diana  gave  a  little  sigh. 
It  had  all  grown  so  familiar.  She  seemed  to  have  lived  no 
other  life  beside  this  nomad  existence.  The  years  that 
had  gone  before  faded  into  a  kind  of  dim  remembrance, 
the  time  when  she  had  travelled  ceaselessly  round  the 
world  with  her  brother  seemed  very  remote.  She  had 
existed  then,  filling  her  life  with  sport,  unconscious  of  the 
something  that  was  lacking  in  her  nature,  and  now  she 
was  alive  at  last,  and  the  heart  whose  existence  she  had 
doubted  was  burning  and  throbbing  with  a  passion  that 
was  consuming  her.  Her  eyes  swept  lingeringly  around 
the  camp  with  a  very  tender  light  in  them.  Everything 
she  saw  was  connected  with  and  bound  up  in  the  man  who 
was  lord  of  it  all.  She  was  very  proud  of  him,  proud  of 
his  magnificent  physical  abilities,  proud  of  his  hold  over 
his  wild  turbulent  followers,  proud  with  the  pride  of 
primeval  woman  in  the  dominant  man  ruling  his  fellow- 
men  by  force  and  fear. 

The  old  Arab  had  finished  his  prayers  and  rose  leisurely 
from  his  knees,  salaaming  with  a  broad  smile.  All  the 
tribesmen  smiled  on  her,  and  would  go  out  of  their  way 
to  win  a  nod  of  recognition  from  her.  She  faltered  a 
few  words  in  stumbling  Arabic  in  reply  to  his  long,  flow- 
ery speech,  and  with  a  little  laugh  beat  a  hasty  retreat  into 
the  tent. 

She  paused  beside  the  Vicomte.  "  Is  it  another 
novel  ?  "  she  asked  shyly,  indicating  the  steadily  increasing 
pile  of  manuscript. 

He  turned  on  his  chair,  resting  his  arms  on  the  rail, 
twirling  a  fountain  pen  between  his  fingers,  and  smiled  at 
her  as  she  curled  up  on  the  divan  with  Kopec,  who  had 
followed  her  into  the  tent    "  No,  Madame.  Something 


l82 


THE  SHEIK 


more  serious  this  time.  It  is  a  history  of  this  very  curi- 
ous tribe  of  Ahmed's.  They  are  different  in  so  many 
ways  from  ordinary  Arabs.  They  have  been  a  race  apart 
for  generations.  They  have  beliefs  and  customs  pecul- 
iarly their  own.  You  may,  for  instance,  have  noticed  the 
singular  absence  among  them  of  the  strict  religious  prac- 
tices that  hold  among  other  Mohammedans.  Ahmed  Ben 
Hassan's  tribe  worship  first  and  foremost  their  Sheik, 
then  the  famous  horses  for  which  they  are  renowned,  and 
then  and  then  only  —  Allah." 

"Is  Monseigneur  a  Mohammedan?" 

Saint  Hubert  shrugged.  "  He  believes  in  a  God,"  he 
said  evasively,  turning  back  to  his  writing. 

Diana  studied  him  curiously  as  he  bent  over  his  work. 
She  smiled  when  she  thought  of  the  mental  picture  she 
had  drawn  of  Saint  Hubert  before  he  came,  and  con- 
trasted it  with  the  real  man  under  her  eyes.  During  the 
week  that  he  had  been  in  the  camp  he  had  forced  her 
liking  and  compelled  her  confidence  by  the  sympathetic 
charm  of  his  manner.  He  had  carried  off  a  difficult  posi- 
tion with  a  delicacy  and  savoir-faire  that  had  earned  him 
her  gratitude.  He  had  saved  her  a  hundred  humiliations 
with  a  tact  that  had  been  as  spontaneous  as  it  had 
been  unobtrusive.  And  they  had  the  bond  between  them 
of  the  common  love  they  had  for  this  strange  leader  of  a 
strange  tribe.  What  had  been  the  origin  of  the  friend- 
ship between  these  utterly  dissimilar  men  —  a  friendship 
that  seemed  to  go  back  to  the  days  of  their  boyhood  ?  The 
question  intrigued  her  and  she  pondered  over  it,  lying 
quietly  on  the  divan,  smoothing  the  hound's  huge  head 
resting  on  her  knee. 

The  Vicomte  wrote  rapidly  for  some  time  and  then 


THE  SHEIK 


183 


flung  down  his  pen  with  an  exclamation  of  relief,  gathered 
up  the  loose  sheets  from  the  floor  and,  stacking  them  in 
an  orderly  heap  on  the  table,  swung  round  on  his  chair 
again.  He  looked  at  the  giti's  slender  little  figure  lying 
with  the  unconsciously  graceful  attitude  of  a  child  against 
the  heaped-up  cushions,  her  face  bent  over  the  dog's 
rough,  grey  head,  and  he  felt  an  unwonted  emotion  stir- 
ring in  him.  The  quick  sympathy  that  she  had  aroused 
from  the  first  moment  of  seeing  her  had  given  place  to  a 
deeper  feeling  that  moved  him  profoundly,  and  with  it  a 
chivalrous  desire  to  protect,  a  longing  to  stand  between 
her  and  the  irremediable  disaster  that  loomed  inevitably 
ahead  of  he*r. 

She  felt  his  concentrated  gaze  and  looked  up.  "  You 
have  done  your  work  ?  " 

"  All  I  can  do  at  the  moment.  Henri  must  unravel  the 
rest;  he  has  a  passion  for  hieroglyphics.  He  is  an  in- 
valuable person;  I  could  never  get  on  without  him.  He 
bullied  me  when  we  were  boys  together  —  at  least  that  is 
what  I  called  it.  He  called  it  'amusing  Monsieur  le 
Vicomte/  and  for  the  last  fifteen  years  he  has  tyrannised 
over  me  wholeheartedly."  He  laughea  and  snapped  his 
fingers  at  Kopec,  who  whined  and  rolled  his  eyes  in  his 
direction,  but  did  not  lift  his  head  from  Diana's  knee. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  Diana  continued  fondling  the 
hound  absently.  "  I  have  read  your  books,  Monsieur  — 
all  that  Monseigneur  has  here,"  she  said  at  last,  looking 
up  gravely. 

He  gave  a  little  bow  with  a  few  murmured  words  that 
she  did  not  catch. 

"  Your  novel  interested  me,"  she  went  on,  still  stroking 
the  hound,  as  if  the  nearness  of  the  great  beast  helped  her. 


i&4 


THE  SHEIE 


"  As  a  rule  novels  bore  me,  the  subjects  they  deal  with 
have  been  of  no  interest  to  me,  but  this  one  gripped  me . 
It  is  unusual,  it  is  wonderful,  but  —  is  it  real?"  She 
had  spoken  dispassionately  7  ith  the  boyish  candour  that 
was  characteristic,  not  complimenting  an  author  on  a 
masterpiece,  but  stating  a  fact  simply,  as  it  appeared  to 
her. 

Saint  Hubert  leaned  forward  over  the  back  of  his  chair. 
"  In  what  way  — -  real  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  looked  at  him  squarely.  "Do  you  think  there 
really  exists  such  a  man  as  you  have  drawn  —  a  man  who 
could  be  as  tender,  as  unselfish,  as  faithful  as  your  hero?  " 

Saint  Hubert  looked  away,  and,  picking  up  his  pen, 
stabbed  idly  at  the  blotting-pad,  drawing  meaningless 
circles  and  dots,  with  a  slow  shrug.  The  scorn  in  her 
voice  and  the  sudden  pain  in  her  eyes  hurt  him. 

45  Do  you  know  such  a  man,  Monsieur,  or  is  he  wholly 
a  creature  of  your  imagination?  "  she  persisted. 

He  completed  a  complicated  diagram  on  the  sheet  of 
blotting-paper  before  answering.  "  I  do  know  a  man 
who,  given  certain  circumstances,  has  the  ability  to  develop 
into  such  a  character,"  he  said  eventually  in  a  low  voice. 

She  laughed  bitterly.  "  Then  you  are  luckier  than  I. 
I  am  not  very  old,  but  during  the  last  five  years  I  have 
met  many  men  of  many  nationalities,  and  I  have  never 
known  one  who  in  any  degree  resembles  the  preux  chev- 
alier of  your  book.  The  men  who  have  most  intimately 
touched  my  life  have  not  known  the  meaning  of  the  word 
tenderness,  and  have  never  had  a  thought  for  any  one 
beyond  themselves.  You  have  been  more  fortunate  in 
your  acquaintances,  Monsieur." 

A  dull  red  crept  into  the  Vicomte's  face,  and  he  con- 


THE  SHEIK 


i85 


tinued  looking  at  the  pen  in  his  fingers.  "Beautiful 
women,  Madame,"  he  said  slowly,  "  unfortunately  pro- 
voke in  some  men  all  that  is  basest  and  vilest  in  their 
natures.  No  man  knows  to  what  depths  of  infamy  he 
may  stoop  under  the  stress  of  a  sudden  temptation." 

"And  the  woman  pays,"  cried  Diana  vehemently. 
"  Pays  for  the  beauty  God  curses  her  with  —  the  beauty 
she  may  hate  herself ;  pays  until  the  beauty  fades.  How 

much  She  pulled  herself  up  short,  biting  her  lips. 

Moved  by  the  sense  of  the  sympathy  that  had  uncon- 
sciously been  influencing  her  during  the  past  week  and 
which  had  shaken  the  self -suppression  that  she  had  im- 
posed upon  herself,  her  tongue  had  run  away  with  her. 
She  was  afraid  of  the  confidence  that  his  manner  was 
almost  demanding  of  her.  Her  pride  restrained  her  from 
the  compassion  that  her  loneliness  had  nearly  yielded  to. 

"  Excuse  me,"  she  said  coldly,  "  my  ideas  cannot  pos- 
sibly interest  you." 

"  On  the  contrary,  you  interest  me  profoundly,"  he  cor- 
rected quickly. 

She  noticed  the  slight  difference  in  his  words  and 
laughed  more  bitterly  than  before.  "As  what?  —  a  sub- 
ject for  vivisection?  Get  on  your  operating  coat  and 
bring  your  instruments  without  delay.  The  victim  is  all 
ready  for  you.    It  will  be  '  copy  '  for  your  next  book !  " 

"Madame!" 

He  had  sprung  to  his  feet,  and  she  looked  up  at  him 
miserably,  her  hand  held  out  in  swift  contrition.  "  Oh, 
forgive  me !  I  shouldn't  have  said  that.  You  haven't  de- 
served it.  You  have  been  —  kind.  I  am  grateful.  For- 
give me  and  my  rudeness.  It  must  be  the  heat,  it  makes 
one  very  irritable,  don't  you  think  ?  " 


i86 


THE  SHEIK 


He  ignored  her  pitiful  little  subterfuge  and  raised  her 
outstretched,  quivering  fingers  to  his  lips.  "  If  you  will 
honour  me  with  your  friendship,"  he  said,  with  a  touch 
of  the  old-world  chivalry  that  was  often  noticeable  in 
him,  "  my  life  is  at  your  service." 

But  as  he  spoke  his  voice  changed.  The  touch  of  her 
cold  fingers  sent  a  rush  of  feeling  through  him  that  for  an 
instant  overpowered  him. 

She  let  her  hand  lie  in  his,  and  for  a  few  moments  she 
avoided  his  eyes  and  looked  down  at  the  rough  head  in 
her  lap.  Then  she  met  his  gaze  frankly.  "  Your  offer  is 
too  rare  a  thing  to  put  on  one  side.  If  you  will  be  my 
friend,  as  you  are  Monseigneur's  friend  "  she  fal- 
tered, turning  her  head  away,  and  her  fingers  lying  in  his 
trembled  slightly. 

He  started  and  crushed  the  hand  he  was  holding  un- 
knowingly, as  the  thought  was  forced  on  him.  Mon- 
seigneur's friend!  He  realized  that  in  the  last  few  mo- 
ments he  had  forgotten  the  Sheik,  had  forgotten  every- 
thing, swept  off  his  feet  by  an  intense  emotion  that  stag- 
gered him  with  its  unexpectedness,  except  the  loveliness 
and  helplessness  of  the  girl  beside  him.  His  head  was 
reeling;  his  calmness,  his  loyalty,  his  earlier  feelings  of 
dispassionate  pity  had  given  way  to  an  extreme  agitation 
that  was  rushing  him  headlong  and  threatening  to  over- 
whelm him.  His  heart  beat  furiously  and  he  clenched  his 
teeth,  fighting  to  regain  his  usual  sang-froid.  The  emo- 
tional temperament  that  Diana  had  divined  from  his  novel 
had  sprung  uppermost  with  a  bound,  overthrowing  the 
rigid  repression  of  years.  The  blood  beat  in  his  ears  as 
he  strove  to  master  himself,  to  crush  the  madness  that 
had  come  upon  him. 


THE  SHEIK 


187 


He  had  closed  his  eyes  with  the  shock  of  self -revelation,  | 
he  opened  them  now  and  looked  down  at  her  hesitatingly, 
almost  fearfully,  clasping  her  hand  closer  in  his  and 
leaning  nearer  to  her,  drawn  irresistibly  by  the  intoxica- 
tion of  her  nearness.  He  saw  her  through  a  mist  that 
cleared  gradually,  saw  that  she  was  ignorant  of  the  emo- 
tion she  had  awakened  in  him,  and,  conscious  only  of  his 
sympathy,  had  left  her  hand  in  his  as  she  would  have 
left  it  in  her  brother's.  She  was  bent  low  over  the  hound, 
her  face  almost  touching  his  big  head,  and  as  Saint 
Hubert  looked  a  glistening  tear  dropped  on  Kopec's  rough, 
grey  neck.  She  had  forgotten  him,  forgotten  even  that 
he  was  standing  beside  her,  in  the  one  predominant 
thought  that  filled  her  mind.  With  an  immense  effort  he 
got  command  of  himself.  Somehow  he  must  conquer  this 
sudden  insanity.  The  loyalty  that  had  hung  trembling 
in  the  balance  reasserted  itself  and  a  self-disgust  seized 
him.  He  had  been  within  an  ace  of  betraying  the  man 
who  had  been  for  twenty  years  nearer  to  him  than  a 
brother.  She  belonged  to  his  friend,  and  now  he  had  not 
even  the  right  to  question  the  ethics  of  the  Sheik's  pos- 
session of  her.  The  calm  that  he  had  lost  came  back  to 
him.  The  wound  would  heal  though  it  might  always 
throb,  but  he  was  strong  enough  to  hide  its  existence  even 
from  the  jealous  eyes  that  had  watched  him  ceaselessly 
since  his  outburst  on  the  night  of  his  arrival.  He  had 
been  conscious  of  them  daily.  Even  this  morning  the 
Sheik  had  made  every  effort  short  of  a  direct  command 
to  induce  him  to  go  with  him  on  the  expedition  that  had 
taken  him  away  so  early.  Sure  of  himself  now,  he  lifted 
her  fingers  to  his  lips  again  reverently  with  a  kind  of 
renunciation  in  his  kiss,  and  laid  her  hand  down  gently. 


i88 


THE  SHEIK 


He  turned  away  with  a  smothered  sigh  and  a  little  pang 
at  her  complete  absorption,  and,  as  he  did  so,  Henri  came 
in  quickly. 

"  Monsieur  le  Vicomte !  Will  you  come  ?  There  has 
been  an  accident." 

With  a  cry  that  Saint  Hubert  never  forgot  Diana 
leaped  to  her  feet,  her  face  colourless,  and  her  lips  framed 
the  word  "  Ahmed,"  though  no  sound  came  from  them. 
She  was  shaking  all  over,  and  the  Vicomte  put  his  arm 
round  her  instinctively.  She  clung  to  him,  and  he  knew 
with  a  bitter  certainty  that  the  support  of  a  table  or  a 
chair  would  have  meant  no  less  to  her. 

"  What  is  it,  Henri  ?  "  he  said  sharply,  with  a  slight 
movement  that  interposed  himself  between  Diana  and  his 
servant. 

"  One  of  the  men,  Monsieur  le  Vicomte.  His  gun 
burst,  and  his  hand  is  shattered." 

Saint  Hubert  nodded  curtly  towards  the  door  and 
turned  his  attention  to  Diana.  She  sank  down  on  the 
divan  and,  gathering  the  hound's  head  in  her  arm,  buried 
her  face  in  his  neck.  "  Forgive  me,"  she  murmured,  hei 
voice  muffled  in  the  rough,  grey  hair.  "  It  is  stupid  of 
me,  but  he  is  riding  that  brute  Shaitan  to-day.  I  am  al- 
ways nervous.    Please  go.    I  will  come  in  a  minute." 

He  went  without  a  word.  "  I  am  always  nervous." 
The  tales  he  had  heard  of  Diana  Mayo  as  he  passed 
through  Biskra  did  not  include  nerves.  His  face  was  set 
as  he  ran  hurriedly  across  the  camp. 

Diana  sat  quite  still  after  he  had  gone  until  the  nervous 
shuddering  ceased,  until  Kopec  twisted  his  head  free  of 
her  arms  and  licked  her  face  with  an  uneasy  whine.  She 
brushed  her  hand  across  her  eyes  with  a  gasp  of  relief, 


THE  SHEIK  lSg 

and  went  out  into  the  bright  sunlight  with  the  hound  at 
her  heels. 

The  noisy  clamour  of  excited  voices  guided  her  to  the 
scene  of  the  accident,  and  the  surrounding  crowd  opened 
to  let  her  pass  through.  The  wounded  man  was  sitting 
holding  up  his  hand  stoically  for  Saint  Hubert's  minis- 
trations with  a  look  of  mild  interest  on  his  face.  In 
response  to  Diana's  smile  and  cheery  word  he  grinned 
sheepishly  with  a  roll  of  his  fine  eyes.  Saint  Hubert 
looked  up  quickly.  "  It  is  not  a  pleasant  sight,"  he  said 
doubtfully. 

"  I  don't  mind.  Let  me  hold  that,"  she  said  quietly, 
rolling  up  her  sleeves  and  taking  a  crimson-spattered  basin 
from  Henri.  Saint  Hubert  flashed  another  look  at  her, 
marvelling  at  her  steady  voice  and  even  colour  when  he 
thought  of  the  white-faced  girl  who  had  clung  trembling 
to  him  ten  minutes  earlier.  Outside  of  Ahmed  Ben  Has- 
san she  still  retained  the  fearless  courage  that  she  had 
always  had;  it  was  only  when  anything  touched  him 
nearly  that  the  new  Diana,  with  the  coward  anxiety  of 
love,  rose  paramount. 

She  watched  the  Vicomte's  skilful  treatment  of  the 
maimed  hand  with  interest.  There  was  a  precision  in  his 
movement  and  a  deft  touch  that  indicated  both  knowledge 
and  practise.    "  You  are  a  doctor?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  without  looking  up  from  his  work,  "  I 
studied  when  I  was  a  young  man  and  passed  all  the  neces- 
sary examinations.  It  is  indispensable  when  one  travels 
as  I  do.    I  have  found  it  invaluable." 

He  took  up  some  dressing  that  Henri  held  ready  for 
him,  and  Diana  handed  the  now  unwanted  bowl  to  Gaston. 
She  looked  again  at  the  Arab,  whose  impassive  face 


190 


THE  SHEIK 


showed  no  sign  of  any  feeling.  "  Does  he  feel  it  very 
much,  do  you  think  ?  "  she  asked  the  valet. 

He  laughed  and  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Less  than 
I  should,  Madame.  What  is  really  troubling  him  is  the 
thought  of  what  Monseigneur  will  say  when  he  hears  that 
Selim  was  fool  enough  to  buy  a  worthless  gun  from  one 
of  the  servants  of  the  Dutchman  who  passed  here  last 
week,"  and  he  added  a  few  teasing  words  in  Arabic  which 
made  Selim  look  up  with  a  grimace. 

Saint  Hubert  finished  adjusting  the  bandages  and  stood 
up,  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  forehead. 

"  Will  he  do  all  right  now  ? 99  asked  Diana  anxiously. 

"  I  think  so.  The  thumb  is  gone,  as  you  saw,  but  I 
think  I  can  save  the  rest  of  the  hand.  I  will  watch  him 
carefully,  but  these  men  of  Ahmed's  are  in  such  excellent 
condition  that  I  do  not  think  there  will  be  any  trouble." 

"  I  am  going  to  ride,"  said  Diana,  turning  away.  "  It  is 
rather  late,  but  there  is  just  time.    Will  you  come?  " 

It  was  a  temptation  and  he  hesitated,  gathering  together 
the  instruments  he  had  been  using,  but  prudence  prevailed. 

"  I  should  like  to,  but  I  ought  to  keep  an  eye  on  Selim," 
he  said  quietly,  snatching  at  the  plausible  excuse  that 
offered.  He  found  her  later  before  the  big  tent  as  she 
was  ready  to  start,  and  waited  while  she  mounted. 

"  If  I  am  late  don't  wait  for  me.  Tell  Henri  to  give 
you  your  lunch,"  she  called  out  between  The  Dancer's 
idiotic  prancings. 

He  watched  her  ride  away,  with  Gaston  a  few  paces 
behind  and  followed  by  the  escort  of  six  men  that  the 
Sheik  had  lately  insisted  upon.  The  continual  presence 
of  these  six  men  riding  at  her  heels  irked  her  considerably. 
The  wild,  free  gallops  that  she  had  loved  became  quite 


THE  SHEIK  i9i 

different  with  the  thought  of  the  armed  guard  behind  her. 
They  seemed  to  hamper  her  and  put  a  period  to  her  en- 
joyment. The  loneliness  of  her  rides  had  been  to  her  half 
their  charm;  she  had  grown  accustomed  to  and  oblivious 
of  Gaston,  but  she  was  acutely  conscious  of  the  six  pairs 
of  eyes  watching  her  every  movement.  She  did  not  see 
the  necessity  for  them.  She  had  never  been  aware  of 
anything  any  time  when  she  was  riding  that  seemed  to 
justify  the  Sheik's  order.  The  oasis  was  not  on  a  cara- 
van route,  and  if  she  evej  saw  Arabs  at  any  distance  from 
the  camp  they  always  proved  to  be  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's 
own  men.  She  had  thought  of  remonstrating  with  him, 
but  her  courage  had  failed  her.  His  mood,  since  the 
coming  of  Saint  Hubert,  had  been  of  the  coldest  —  almost 
repellant.  The  weeks  of  happiness  that  had  gone  before 
had  developed  the  intimacy  between  them  almost  into  a 
feeling  of  camaraderie.  He  had  been  more  humane,  more 
Western,  more  considerate  than  he  had  ever  been,  and 
the  fear  that  she  had  of  him  had  lain  quiescent.  She 
could  have  asked  him  then.  But  since  the  morning  of 
Raoul's  arrival,  when  the  unexpected  fervour  of  his  em- 
brace had  given  new  birth  to  the  hope  that  had  almost  died 
within  her,  he  had  changed  completely  into  a  cold  reserve 
that  chilled  her.  His  caresses  had  been  careless  and  in- 
frequent, and  his  indifference  so  great  that  she  had  won- 
dered miserably  if  the  flame  of  his  passion  for  her  was 
burning  out  and  if  this  was  the  end.  And  yet  throughout 
his  indifference  she  had  been  conscious,  like  Saint  Hubert, 
of  the  surveillance  of  constant  jealous  eyes  that  watched 
them  both  with  a  fierce  scrutiny  that  was  felt  rather  than 
actually  seen.  But  the  spark  of  hope  that  the  knowledge 
of  this  jealousy  still  fanned  was  not  great  enough  to 


192 


THE  SHEIK 


overcome  the  barrier  that  his  new  mood  had  raised  be- 
tween them.  She  dared  ask  no  favour  of  him  now.  Her 
heart  tightened  at  the  thought  of  his  indifference.  It 
hurt  so.  This  morning  he  had  left  her  without  a  word 
when  he  had  gone  out  into  the  early  dawn,  and  she  was 
hungry  for  the  kisses  he  withheld.  She  was  used  to  his 
taciturn  fits,  but  her  starved  heart  ached  perpetually  for 
tangible  recognition.  Love,  the  capacity  for  which  she 
had  so  long  denied,  had  become  a  force  that,  predominat- 
ing everything,  held  her  irresistibly.  The  accumulated 
affection  that,  for  want  of  an  outlet,  had  been  stemmed 
within  her,  had  burst  all  restraint,  and  the  love  that  she 
gave  to  the  man  to  whom  she  had  surrendered  her  proud 
heart  was  immeasurable  —  a  love  of  infinite  tenderness 
and  complete  unselfishness,  a  love  that  had  made  her 
strangely  humble.  She  had  yielded  up  everything  to  him, 
he  dominated  her  wholly.  Her  imperious  will  had  bent 
before  his  greater  determination,  and  his  mastery  over  her 
had  provoked  a  love  that  craved  for  recompense.  She 
only  lived  for  him  and  for  the  hope  of  his  love,  engulfed 
in  the  passion  that  enthralled  her.  Her  surrender  had 
been  no  common  one.  The  feminine  weakness  that  she 
had  despised  and  fought  against  had  triumphed  over  her 
unexpectedly  without  humiliating  thoroughness.  Sex  had 
supervened  to  overthrow  all  her  preconceived  notions. 
The  womanly  instincts  that  under  Aubrey's  training  had 
been  suppressed  and  undeveloped  had,  in  contact  with  the 
Sheik's  vivid  masculinity  and  compelling  personality,  risen 
to  the  surface  with  startling  completeness. 

To-day  she  was  almost  desperate.  His  callousness  of 
the  morning  had  wounded  her  deeply,  and  a  wave  of 
rebellion  welled  up  in  her.    She  would  not  be  thrown 


THE  SHEIK 


193 


aside  without  making  any  effort  to  fight  for  his  love. 
She  would  use  every  art  that  her  beauty  and  her  woman's 
instinct  gave  her.  Her  cheek  burned  as  she  thought  of 
the  role  she  was  setting  herself.  She  would  be  no  better 
than  "  those  others  "  whose  remembrance  still  made  her 
shiver.  But  she  crushed  down  the  repugnant  feeling 
resolutely,  flinging  up  her  head  with  the  old  haughty  ges- 
ture and  drawing  herself  straighter  in  the  saddle  with 
compressed  lips.  She  had  endured  so  much  already  that 
she  could  even  bear  this  further  outrage  to  her  feelings. 
At  no  matter  what  cost  she  must  make  him  care  for  her. 
Though  she  loathed  the  means  she  would  make  him  love 
her.  But  even  as  she  planned  the  doubt  of  her  ability  to 
succeed  crept  into  her  mind,  torturing  her  with  insidious 
recollections. 

Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  was  no  ordinary  man  to  succumb 
to  the  fascinations  of  a  woman.  She  had  experienced  his 
obstinacy,  and  knew  the  inflexibility  of  his  nature.  His 
determination  was  a  rock  against  which  she  had  been 
broken  too  many  times  not  to  know  its  strength.  For  a 
moment  she  despaired,  then  courage  came  to  her  again, 
thrusting  away  the  doubts  that  crowded  in  upon  her  and 
leaving  the  hope  that  still  lingered  in  her  heart.  A 
faint  tremulous  smile  curved  her  lips,  and  she  looked 
up,  forcing  her  thoughts  back  to  the  present  with  an 
effort. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  ride  they  had  passed  several 
vedettes  sitting  motionless  on  their  impatient  horses.  The 
men  had  swung  their  rifles  high  in  the  air  in  salute  as  she 
passed,  and  once  or  twice  Gaston  had  shouted  a  question 
as  he  galloped  after  her.  But  for  the  last  hour  they  had 
seen  no  one.    The  desert  was  undulating  here,  rising  and 


194 


THE  SHEIK 


falling  in  short,  sharp  declivities  that  made  a  wide  outlook 
impossible. 

Gaston  spurred  to  Diana's  side.  "  Will  Madame  please 
to  turn?  "  he  said  respectfully.  "  It  is  late,  and  it  is  not 
safe  riding  amongst  these  slopes.  One  cannot  see  what 
is  coming  and  I  am  afraid." 

"  Afraid,  Gaston  ?  "  she  rallied  laughingly. 

u  For  you,  Madame,"  he  answered  gravely. 

She  reined  in  The  Dancer  as  she  spoke ;  but  it  was  too 
late.  Even  as  she  turned  her  horse's  head  innumerable 
Arabs  seemed  to  spring  up  on  all  sides  of  them.  Before 
she  realised  what  was  happening  her  escort  flashed  past 
and  wheeled  in  behind  her,  shooting  steadily  at  the  horde 
of  men  who  poured  in  upon  them,  and,  with  a  groan,  Gas- 
ton seized  her  bridle  and  urged  the  horses  back  in  the 
direction  from  which  they  had  come.  The  noise  was 
deafening,  the  raucous  shouting  of  the  Arabs  and  the 
continuous  sharp  crack  of  the  rifles.  Bullets  began  to 
whizz  past  her. 

Gaston  tucked  his  reins  under  his  knee,  and  with  one 
hand  grasping  The  Dancer's  bridle  and  his  revolver  in 
the  other,  rode  looking  back  over  his  shoulder.  Diana, 
too,  glanced  behind  her,  and  mechanically  her  fingers 
closed  over  the  shining  little  weapon  that  the  Sheik  had 
given  her  the  previous  week.  She  saw  with  a  sudden 
sickening  the  six  men  who  had  formed  her  escort  beaten 
back  by  the  superior  numbers  that  enclosed  them  on  every 
side.  Already  two  were  down  and  the  rest  were  on  foot, 
and,  as  she  watched,  they  were  swallowed  up  in  the  mass 
of  men  that  poured  over  them,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a 
party  of  about  twenty  horsemen  detached  themselves  from 
the  main  body  and  galloped  towards  her  and  Gaston. 


THE  SHEIK 


195 


She  seized  his  arm.  "Can't  we  do  something?  Can't 
we  help  them?  We  can't  leave  them  like  that,"  she 
gasped,  wrenching  the  revolver  from  the  holster  at  her 
waist. 

"  No,  no,  Madame,  it  is  impossible.  It  is  a  hundred  to 
six.  You  must  think  of  yourself.  Go  on,  Madame. 
For  God's  sake,  ride  on.  We  may  have  a  chance."  He 
loosed  her  bridle  and  dropped  behind  her,  interposing  him- 
self between  her  and  the  pursuing  Arabs.  A  fierce  yelling 
and  a  hail  of  bullets  that  went  wide  made  Diana  turn  her 
head  as  she  crouched  low  in  the  saddle.  She  realised  the 
meaning  of  Gaston's  tactics  and  checked  her  horse  delib- 
erately. 

"  I  won't  go  first.  You  must  ride  with  me,"  she  cried, 
wincing  as  a  bullet  went  close  by  her. 

"  Mon  Dieu!  What  are  you  stopping  for?  Do  you 
think  I  can  face  Monseigneur  if  anything  happens  to  you, 
Madame  ?  "  replied  Gaston  fiercely.  "  Do  as  I  tell  you. 
Go  on !  "  Deference  was  gone  in  the  fear  that  roughened 
his  voice. 

He  looked  back  and  his  face  grew  grey.  For  himself 
he  had  no  fear,  but  for  the  girl  beside  him  he  dared  not 
even  think.  They  were  Ibraheim  Omair's  men  who  had 
trapped  them,  and  he  cursed  his  folly  in  allowing  Diana  to 
come  so  far.  Yet  it  had  seemed  safe  enough.  The 
scout's  reports  had  lately  proved  that  the  robber  Sheik  had 
up  to  now  respected  the  boundary  line  between  the  two 
territories.  This  must  be  a  sudden  tentative  raid  which 
had  met  with  unlooked-for  success.  The  bait  would  be 
too  tempting  to  allow  of  any  slackening  on  the  part  of  the 
raiders.  The  white  woman,  who  was  Ahmed  Ben  Has- 
san's latest  toy,  and  his  servant,  whom  he  was  known  to 


196  THE  SHEIK 

value  so  highly,  would  be  a  prize  that  would  not  be 
lightly  let  go.    For  himself  it  would  be  probably  torture, 

certainly  death,  and  for  her  !    He  set  his  teeth  as  he 

looked  at  her  and  the  perspiration  poured  down  his  face. 
He  would  kill  her  himself  before  it  came  to  that.  And  as 
he  looked  she  turned  her  head,  and  met  his  agonised  eyes 
for  a  moment,  smiling  bravely.  He  had  refrained  up  till 
now  from  shooting,  trying  to  reserve  his  ammunition  for 
a  last  resource,  but  he  saw  that  he  must  delay  no  longer. 
He  fired  slowly  and  steadily,  picking  his  men  with  care- 
ful precision.  It  was  a  forlorn  hope,  but  by  checking  the 
leaders  even  for  a  few  moments  he  might  gain  time. 
The  accuracy  of  his  aim,  that  every  time  proved  effectual, 
might  keep  back  the  onrush  until  they  got  clear  of  the  un- 
dulating country,  until  they  got  out  into  the  open  where 
the  sounds  of  the  firing  might  reach  some  of  the  outpost 
sentinels,  until  they  got  too  near  to  the  Sheik's  camp  for 
pursuit  to  be  possible.  The  bullets  pattered  continuously 
round  them,  but  the  men  who  fired  them  were  not  Ahmed 
Ben  Hassan's  carefully  trained  marksmen.  But  still  Gas- 
ton knew  that  their  position  was  almost  hopeless.  Any 
moment  a  bullet  might  reach  one  of  them. 

Their  pursuers,  too,  seemed  to  guess  his  thoughts  and 
opened  out  into  an  irregular,  extended  line,  swerving  and 
manoeuvring  continually,  making  accurate  shooting  im- 
possible, while  they  urged  their  horses  to  a  terrific  pace 
trying  to  outflank  them.  Diana  was  shooting  now.  The 
thought  of  her  escort's  annihilation  and  her  own  and 
Gaston's  peril  had  overcome  the  reluctance  she  had  had  at 
first,  and  she  had  even  a  moment  to  wonder  at  her  cool- 
ness. She  did  not  feel  afraid,  the  death  of  Ahmed's  men 
had  made  her  angry,  a  fierce  revengeful  anger  that  made 


THE  SHEIK 


197 


her  see  red  and  filled  her  with  a  desire  to  retaliate  in 
kind.  She  fired  rapidly,  emptying  her  revolver,  and  she 
had  just  reloaded  with  steady  fingers  when  The  Dancer 
stumbled,  recovering  himself  for  a  few  steps,  and  then 
lurched  slowly  over  on  to  his  side,  blood  pouring  from 
his  mouth.  Diana  sprang  clear,  and  in  a  moment  Gaston 
was  beside  her,  thrusting  her  behind  him,  shielding  her 
with  his  own  body,  and  firing  steadily  at  the  oncoming 
Arabs. 

The  same  feeling  of  unreality  that  she  had  experienced 
once  before  the  first  day  in  the  Sheik's  camp  came  over 
her.  The  intense  stillness  —  for  the  Arabs  had  ceased 
shouting  —  the  hot,  dry  sand  with  the  shimmering  heat 
haze  rising  like  mist  from  its  whispering  surface,  the 
cloudless  deep  blue  sky  overhead,  the  band  of  menacing 
horsemen  circling  nearer  and  nearer,  the  dead  Dancer, 
with  Gaston's  horse  standing  quietly  beside  his  prostrate 
companion,  and  lastly,  the  man  beside  her,  brave  and  de- 
voted to  the  end,  all  seemed  fantastic  and  unreal.  She 
viewed  it  dispassionately,  as  if  she  were  a  spectator  rather 
than  a  participant  in  the  scene.  But  for  a  moment  only, 
then  the  reality  of  the  situation  came  clearly  to  her  again. 
Any  minute  might  mean  death  for  one  or  other  or  both 
of  them,  and  with  an  instinctive  movement  she  pressed 
closer  to  Gaston.  They  were  both  silent,  there  seemed 
nothing  to  say.  The  valet's  left  hand  clenched  over  hers 
at  the  involuntary  appeal  for  companionship  that  she 
made,  and  she  felt  it  contract  as  a  bullet  gashed  his  fore- 
head, blinding  him  for  a  moment  with  the  blood  that 
dripped  into  his  eyes.  He  let  go  her  hand  to  brush  his 
arm  across  his  face,  and  as  he  did  so  the  Arabs  with 
suddenly  renewed  shouting  bore  down  upon  thenx 


THE  SHEIK 


Gaston  turned  sharply  and  Diana  read  his  purpose  in  the 
horror  in  his  eyes.  She  held  up  her  head  with  a  little 
nod  and  the  same  brave  smile  on  her  white  lips. 
"  Please,"  she  whispered,  "  quickly !  " 

A  spasm  crossed  his  face.  "  Turn  your  head,"  he 
muttered  desperately.    "  I  cannot  do  it  if  you  " 

There  was  a  rattle  of  shots,  and  with  a  gasp  he  crumpled 
up  against  her.  For  a  moment  it  was  pandemonium. 
Standing  over  Gaston's  body  she  fired  her  last  shot  and 
flung  the  empty  revolver  in  the  face  of  a  man  who  sprang 
forward  to  seize  her.  She  turned  with  a  desperate  hope 
of  reaching  Gaston's  horse,  but  she  was  hemmed  in,  and 
for  a  second  she  stood  at  bay,  hands  clenched  and  teeth 
set,  braving  the  wild  faces  that  surrounded  her,  and  were 
closing  in  upon  her,  with  flashing  defiant  eyes.  Then  she 
was  conscious  of  a  crashing  blow  on  her  head,  the  ground 
heaved  up  under  her  feet,  everything  went  black  before 
her  eyes,  and  without  a  sound  she  fell  senseless. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Saint  Hubert  was  still  writing  in 
the  big  tent.  Henri  had  deciphered  the  notes  that  had 
baffled  his  master  in  the  morning,  and  the  Vicomte  had 
taken  advantage  of  the  solitude  to  do  some  long-neglected 
work.  He  had  forgotten  the  time,  forgotten  to  be  sur- 
prised at  Diana's  continued  absence,  immersed  in  the  inter- 
esting subject  he  was  dealing  with,  and  not  realising  the 
significance  of  her  delayed  return.  Ahmed  had  spoken  of 
the  proximity  of  his  hereditary  enemy,  but  Saint  Hubert 
had  not  grasped  how  near  the  robber  Sheik  had  ventured. 

He  was  too  engrossed  to  notice  the  usual  noise  in  the 
camp  that  heralded  the  Sheik's  arrival,  and  he  looked  up 
with  a  start  when  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  swept  in.  The 


THE  SHEIK 


199 


Sheik's  dark  eyes  glanced  sombrely  around  the  tent  and 
without  a  word  he  went  through  into  the  inner  room.  In 
a  moment  he  came  back. 
"Where  is  Diane?" 

Saint  Hubert  got  up,  puzzled  at  his  tone.  He  looked  at 
his  watch.  "  She  went  for  a  ride  this  morning.  Dieu! 
I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  late." 

"This  morning!  —  and  not  back  yet?"  repeated  the 
Sheik  slowly.    "  What  time  this  morning  ?  " 

"About  ten,  I  think,"  replied  Saint  Hubert  uneasily. 
"  I'm  not  sure.  I  didn't  look.  There  was  an  accident, 
and  she  delayed  to  watch  me  tie  up  one  of  your  foolish 
children  who  had  been  playing  with  a  worthless  gun." 

The  Sheik  moved  over  to  the  doorway.  "  She  had  an 
escort  ?  "  he  asked  curtly. 

"  Yes." 

Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's  face  hardened  and  the  heavy 
scowl  contracted  his  black  brows.  Had  she  all  these 
weeks  been  tricking  him  —  feigning  a  content  she  did  not 
feel,  lulling  his  suspicions  to  enable  her  to  seize  another 
opportunity  to  attempt  to  get  away?  For  a  moment  his 
face  grew  dark,  then  he  put  the  thought  from  him.  He 
trusted  her.  Only  a  week  before  she  had  given  him  her 
word,  and  he  knew  she  would  not  lie  to  him.  And,  be- 
sides, the  thing  was  impossible.  Gaston  would  never  be 
caught  napping  a  second  time,  and  there  were  also 
the  six  men  who  formed  her  guard.  She  would  never 
be  able  to  escape  the  vigilance  of  seven  men.  But  it  was 
the  trust  he  had  in  her  that  weighed  most  with  him.  He 
had  never  trusted  a  woman  before,  but  this  woman  had 
been  different.  The  others  who  had  come  and  gone  so 
lightly  had  not  even  left  a  recollection  behind  them ;  they 


200 


THE  SHEIK 


had  faded  into  one  concrete  cause  of  utter  boredom. 
There  had  never  been  any  reason  to  trust  or  mistrust 
them,  or  to  care  if  they  came  or  went.  Satiety  had  come 
with  possession  and  with  it  indifference.  But  the  emotion 
that  this  girl's  uncommon  beauty  and  slender  boyishness 
had  aroused  in  him  had  not  diminished  during  the  months 
she  had  been  living  in  his  camp.  Her  varying  moods,  her 
antagonism,  her  fits  of  furious  rage,  and,  lastly,  her  un- 
expected surrender,  had  kept  his  interest  alive.  He  had 
grown  accustomed  to  her.  He  had  come  to  looking  for- 
ward with  a  vague,  indefinite  pleasure,  on  returning  from 
his  long  expeditions,  to  seeing  the  dainty  little  figure 
curled  up  among  the  cushions  on  the  big  divan.  Her 
presence  seemed  to  pervade  the  atmosphere  of  the  whole 
tent,  changing  it  utterly.  She  had  become  necessary  to 
him  as  he  had  never  believed  it  possible  that  a  woman 
could  be.  And  with  the  change  that  she  had  made  in  his 
camp  there  had  come  a  change  in  himself  also. 

For  the  first  time  a  shadow  had  risen  between  him  and 
the  man  whose  friendship  had  meant  everything  to  him 
since,  as  a  lad  of  fifteen,  he  had  come  under  the  influence 
of  the  young  Frenchman,  who  was  three  years  his  senior. 
He  realized  that  since  the  night  of  Raoul's  arrival  he  had 
been  seething  with  insensate  jealousy.  He  had  relied  on 
the  Western  tendencies  that  prompted  him  to  carry  off  the 
difficult  situation,  but  his  ingrained  Orientalism  had 
broken  through  the  superficial  veneer.  He  was  jealous 
of  every  word,  every  look  she  gave  Saint  Hubert.  Pride 
had  prevented  an  open  rupture  with  the  Vicomte  this 
morning,  but  he  had  ridden  away  filled  with  a  cold  rage 
that  had  augmented  every  hour  and  finally  driven  him 
back  earlier  than  he  had  intended,  riding  with  a  reckless- 


THE  SHEIK 


201 


ness  that  had  been  apparent  even  to  his  men.  The  sight 
of  Raoul  sitting  alone  absorbed  in  his  work  had  in  part 
allayed  his  suspicions,  and  he  had  gone  on  into  the  other 
room  with  a  feeling  of  new  expectancy  that  had  changed 
to  a  sudden  chill  at  its  emptiness.  The  vacant  room  had 
brought  home  to  him  abruptly  all  that  the  girl  meant  to 
him.    A  latent  anxiety  crept  into  his  eyes. 

He  went  out  under  the  awning  and  clapped  his  hands, 
and  a  servant  answered  the  summons  almost  immediately. 
He  gave  an  order  and  waited,  his  hands  thrust  into  the 
folds  of  his  waist-cloth  and  his  teeth  clenched  on  a  cig- 
arette that  he  had  forgotten  to  light. 

Saint  Hubert  joined  him.  "What  do  you  think?"  he 
asked,  with  a  touch  of  diffidence. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  replied  the  Sheik  shortly. 

*  But  is  there  any  real  danger  ?  " 

"  There  is  always  danger  in  the  desert,  particularly 
when  that  devil  is  abroad."  He  motioned  to  the  south 
with  an  impatient  jerk  of  his  head. 

Saint  Hubert's  breath  whistled  sharply  through  his 
teeth.    "  My  God !    You  don't  imagine  " 

But  the  Sheik  only  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  turned 
to  Yusef,  who  had  come  up  with  half-a-dozen  men. 
There  was  a  rapid  interchange  of  questions  ?nd  answers, 
some  brief  orders,  and  the  men  hurried  away  in  different 
directions,  while  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  turned  again  to 
Saint  Hubert. 

"  They  were  seen  by  three  of  the  southern  patrols  this 
morning,  but  of  course  it  was  nobody's  business  to  find 
out  if  they  had  come  back  or  not.  I  will  start  at  once  — 
in  about  ten  minutes.  You  will  come  with  me?  Good! 
I  have  sent  for  reinforcements,  who  are  to  follow  us  if  we 


202 


THE  SHEIK 


are  not  back  in  twelve  hours."  His  voice  was  expres- 
sionless, and  only  Raoul  de  Saint  Hubert,  who  had  known 
him  since  boyhood,  could  and  did  appreciate  the  signifi- 
cance of  a  fleeting  look  that  crossed  his  face  as  he  went 
back  into  the  tent. 

For  a  moment  the  Vicomte  hesitated,  but  he  knew  that 
not  even  he  was  wanted  inside  that  empty  tent,  and  a  half- 
bitter,  half-sad  feeling  that  the  perfect  friendship  and 
confidence  that  had  existed  between  them  for  twenty  years 
would  never  again  be  the  same  came  to  them,  the  regretful 
sense  of  inevitable  change,  the  consciousness  of  personal 
relegation.  Then  fear  for  Diana  drove  out  every  other 
consideration,  and  he  went  to  his  own  quarters  with  a 
heavy  heart. 

When  he  came  back  in  a  few  minutes  with  Henri  fol- 
lowing him  the  camp  had  undergone  a  transformation. 
With  the  promptness  of  perfect  discipline  the  hundred 
men  who  had  been  chosen  to  go  on  "he  expedition  were 
already  waiting,  each  man  standing  by  his  horse,  and  the 
Sheik,  quiet  and  impassive  as  usual,  was  superintending 
the  distribution  of  extra  ammunition.  A  groom  was 
walking  The  Hawk  slowly  up  and  down,  and  Yusef, 
whose  gloomy  eyes  had  been  fixed  reproachfully  on  his 
chief,  chafing  against  the  order  to  remain  behind  to  take 
command  of  the  reinforcements  should  they  be  needed, 
went  to  him  and  took  the  horse's  bridle  from  him  and 
brought  him  to  the  Sheik.  Even  as  he  held  the  stirrup 
Saint  Hubert  could  see  that  he  was  expostulating  with  an 
unusual  insistence,  begging  for  permission  to  accompany 
them.  But  the  Sheik  shook  his  head,  and  the  young  man 
stood  sullenly  aside  to  avoid  The  Hawk's  hoofs  as  he 
reared  impatiently. 


THE  SHEIK 


203 


Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  motioned  Saint  Hubert  to  his  side 
and  in  silence  the  cavalcade  started  at  the  usual  swift 
gallop.  The  silence  impressed  Raoul,  who  was  accus- 
tomed to  the  Arab's  usual  clamour.  It  affected  his  sensi- 
tive temperaments,  rilling  him  with  a  sinister  foreboding. 
The  silent  band  of  stern- faced  horsemen  riding  in  close 
and  orderly  formation  behind  them  suggested  something 
more  than  a  mere  relief  party.  The  tradition  of  reck- 
less courage  and  organised  fighting  efficiency  that  had 
made  the  tribe  known  and  feared  for  generations  had  been 
always  maintained,  and  under  the  leadership  of  the  last 
two  holders  of  the  hereditary  name  to  so  high  a  degree 
that  the  respect  in  which  it  was  held  was  such  that  no 
other  tribe  had  ventured  to  dispute  its  supremacy,  and 
for  many  years  its  serious  fighting  capacities  had  not  been 
tested. 

Even  Ibraheim  Omair  had  inherited  a  feud  that  was 
largely  traditional.  Only  once  during  the  lifetime  of  the 
last  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had  he  dared  to  come  into  open 
conflict,  and  the  memory  of  it  had  lasted  until  now.  Skir- 
mishes there  had  been  and  would  always  be  inevitably, 
sufficient  to  keep  the  tribesmen  in  a  state  of  perpetual 
expectancy,  and  for  this  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  preserved 
the  rigid  discipline  that  prevailed  in  his  tribe,  insisting 
on  the  high  standard  that  had  kept  them  famous.  The 
life-work  that  his  predecessor  had  taken  over  from  his 
father  the  present  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had  carried  on 
and  developed  with  autocratic  perseverance.  The  inborn 
love  of  fighting  had  been  carefully  fostered  in  the  tribe, 
the  weapons  with  which  they  were  armed  were  of  the 
newest  pattern.  Raoul  knew  with  perfect  certainty  that 
to  the  picked  men  following  them  this  hasty  expedition 


204 


THE  SHEIK 


meant  only  one  thing  —  war,  the  war  that  they  had  looked 
forward  to  all  their  lives,  precipitated  now  by  an  acci- 
dent that  gave  to  a  handful  of  them  the  chance  that 
hundreds  of  their  fellow-tribesmen  were  longing  for, 
a  chance  that  sent  them  joyfully  behind  their  chief,  care- 
less whether  the  reinforcements  that  had  been  sent  for 
arrived  in  time  or  not.  The  smallness  of  their  numbers 
was  a  source  of  pleasure  rather  than  otherwise;  if  they 
won  through  to  them  would  be  the  glory  of  victory; 
if  they  were  annihilated  with  them  would  rest  the  honour 
of  dying  with  the  leader  whom  they  worshipped,  for  not 
one  of  them  doubted  that  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  would  not 
survive  his  bodyguard,  the  flower  of  his  tribe,  the  care- 
fully chosen  men  from  whose  ranks  his  personal  escort 
was  always  drawn.  With  them  he  would  crush  his 
hereditary  enemy  or  with  them  he  would  die. 

The  short  twilight  had  gone  and  a  brilliant  moon  shone 
high  in  the  heavens,  illuminating  the  surrounding  country 
with  a  clear  white  light.  At  any  other  time  the  beauty 
of  the  scene,  the  glamour  of  the  Eastern  night,  the  head- 
long gallop  in  company  with  this  band  of  fierce  fighting 
men  would  have  stirred  Saint  Hubert  profoundly.  His 
artistic  temperament  and  his  own  absolute  fearlessness 
and  love  of  adventure  would  have  combined  to  make  the 
expedition  an  exciting  experience  that  he  would  not  will- 
ingly have  foregone.  But  the  reason  for  it  all,  the  peril 
of  the  girl  whom  he  loved  so  unexpectedly,  changed  the 
whole  colour  of  the  affair,  tinging  it  with  a  gravity  and 
a  suspense  that  left  a  cold  fear  in  his  heart.  And  if  to 
him,  what  then  to  the  man  beside  him?  The  question 
that  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had  negatived  so  scornfully  a 
week  before  had  been  answered  differently  in  the  swift 


THE  SHEIK 


205 


look  that  had  crossed  his  face  this  evening.  He  had  not 
spoken  since  they  started,  and  Saint  Hubert  had  not  felt 
able  to  break  the  silence.  They  had  left  the  level  coun- 
try and  were  in  amongst  the  long,  successive  ranges  of 
undulating  ground,  the  summits  standing  out  silver  white 
in  the  gleaming  moonlight,  the  hollows  filled  with  dark 
shadow,  like  black  pools  of  deep,  still  water.  And  at  the 
bottom  of  one  of  the  slopes  the  Sheik  pulled  up  suddenly 
with  a  low,  hissing  exclamation.  A  white  shape  was 
lying  face  downwards,  spread-eagled  on  the  sand,  almost 
under  The  Hawk's  feet,  and  at  their  approach  two  lean, 
slinking  forms  cantered  away  into  the  night.  The  Sheik 
and  Henri  reached  the  still  figure  simultaneously  and  Saint 
Hubert  almost  as  quickly.  He  made  a  hurried  examina- 
tion. The  bullet  that  had  stunned  Gaston  had  glanced 
ofT,  leaving  an  ugly  cut,  and  others  that  had  hit  him  at 
the  same  time  had  ploughed  through  his  shoulder,  break- 
ing the  bone  and  causing  besides  wounds  that  had  bled 
freely.  He  had  staggered  more  than  a  mile  before  he 
had  fainted  again  from  loss  of  blood.  He  came  to  under 
Saint  Hubert's  handling,  and  lifted  his  heavy  eyes  to  the 
Sheik,  who  was  kneeling  beside  him. 

"  Monseigneur  —  Madame  —  Ibraheim  Omair,"  he 
whispered  weakly,  and  relapsed  into  unconsciousness. 

For -a  moment  the  Sheik's  eyes  met  Raoul's  across  his 
body,  and  then  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  rose  to  his  feet. 
"Be  as  quick  as  you  can,"  he  said,  and  went  back  to  his 
horse.  He  leaned  against  The  Hawk,  his  fingers  mechan- 
ically searching  for  and  lighting  a  cigarette,  his  eyes 
fixed  unseeingly  on  the  group  around  Gaston.  The 
valet's  broken  words  had  confirmed  the  fear  that  he  had 
striven  to  crush  since  he  discovered  Diana's  absence. 


206 


THE  SHEIK 


He  had  only  seen  Ibraheim  Omair  once  when,  ten  years 

before,  he  had  gone  with  the  elder  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan 
to  a  meeting  of  the  more  powerful  chiefs  at  Algiers,  ar- 
ranged under  the  auspices  of  the  French  Government,  to 
confer  on  a  complicated  boundary  question  that  had 
threatened  an  upheaval  amongst  the  tribes  which  the  nom- 
inal protectors  of  the  country  were  afraid  would  be  pre- 
judicial to  their  own  prestige,  as  it  would  have  been 
beyond  their  power  to  quell.  He  had  chafed  at  having  to 
meet  his  hereditary  enemy  on  equal  terms,  and  only  the 
restraining  influence  of  the  old  Sheik,  who  exacted  an 
unquestioning  obedience  that  extended  even  to  his  heir, 
had  prevented  a  catastrophe  that  might  have  nullified  the 
meeting  and  caused  infinitely  more  complications  than  the 
original  boundary  dispute.  But  the  memory  of  the  robber 
Sheik  remained  with  him  always,  and  the  recollection  of 
his  bloated,  vicious  face  and  gross,  unwieldy  body  rose 
clearly  before  him  now. 

Ibraheim  Omair  and  the  slender  daintiness  that  he  had 
prized  so  lightly.  Diane!  His  teeth  met  through  the 
cigarette  in  his  mouth.  His  senseless  jealousy  and  the 
rage  provoked  by  Raoul's  outspoken  criticism  had  re- 
coiled on  the  innocent  cause.  She,  not  Saint  Hubert,  had 
felt  the  brunt  of  his  anger.  In  the  innate  cruelty  of  his 
nature  it  had  given  him  a  subtle  pleasure  to  watch  the 
bewilderment,  alternating  with  flickering  fear,  that  had 
come  back  into  the  deep  blue  eyes  that  for  two  months  had 
looked  into  his  with  frank  confidence.  He  had  made 
her  acutely  conscious  of  his  displeasure.  Only  last  night, 
when  his  lack  of  consideration  and  his  unwonted  irritabil- 
ity had  made  her  wince  several  times  during  the  evening 
and  after  Saint  Hubert  had  gone  to  his  own  tent,  he  had 


THE  SHEIK 


207 


looked  up  to  find  her  eyes  fixed  on  him  with  an  expres- 
sion that,  in  his  dangerous  mood,  had  excited  all  the 
brutality  of  which  he  was  capable,  and  had  filled  him 
with  a  desire  to  torture  her.  The  dumb  reproach  in  her 
eyes  had  exasperated  him,  rousing  the  fiendish  temper 
that  had  been  hardly  kept  in  check  all  the  previous  week. 
And  yet,  when  he  held  her  helpless  in  his  arms,  quivering 
and  shrinking  from  the  embrace  that  was  no  caress,  but 
merely  the  medium  of  his  anger,  and  the  reproach  in  her 
wavering  eyes  changed  to  mute  entreaty,  the  pleasure  he 
had  anticipated  in  her  fear  had  failed  him  as  it  had  before, 
and  had  irritated  him  further.  The  wild  beating  of  her 
heart,  the  sobbing  intake  of  her  breath,  the  knowledge  of 
his  power  over  her,  gave  him  no  gratification,  and  he  had 
flung  her  from  him  cursing  her  savagely,  till  she  had  fled 
into  the  other  room  with  her  hands  over  her  ears  to  shut 
out  the  sound  of  his  slow,  deliberate  voice.  And  this 
morning  he  had  left  her  without  a  sign  of  any  kind,  no 
word  or  gesture  that  might  have  effaced  the  memory  of 
the  previous  night.  He  had  not  meant  to,  he  had  intended 
to  go  back  to  her  before  he  finally  rode  away,  but  Saint 
Hubert's  refusal  to  accompany  him  had  killed  the  softer 
feelings  that  prompted  him,  and  his  rage  had  flamed  up 
again. 

And  now  ?  The  longing  to  hold  her  in  his  arms,  to  kiss 
the  tears  from  her  eyes  and  the  colour  into  her  pale  lips, 
was  almost  unbearable.  He  would  give  his  life  to  keep 
even  a  shadow  from  her  path,  and  she  was  in  the  hands  of 
Ibraheim  Omair !  The  thought  and  all  that  it  implied  was 
torture,  but  no  sign  escaped  him  of  the  hell  he  was  en- 
during. The  unavoidable  delay  seemed  interminable,  and 
he  swung  into  the  saddle,  hoping  that  the  waiting  would 


208 


THE  SHEIK 


seem  less  with  The  Hawk's  restless,  nervous  body  gripped 
between  his  knees,  for  though  the  horse  would  stand 
quietly  with  his  master  beside  him,  he  fretted  continually 
at  waiting  once  the  Sheik  was  mounted,  and  the  necessity 
for  soothing  him  was  preferable  to  complete  inaction. 

Saint  Hubert  rose  to  his  feet  at  last,  and,  leaving  be- 
hind Henri  and  two  Arabs,  who  were  detailed  to  take  the 
wounded  man  back  to  the  camp,  the  swift  gallop  south- 
ward was  resumed.  On,  over  the  rising  and  falling 
ground  along  which  Gaston  had  stumbled,  blind  and  faint 
with  loss  of  blood  and  the  pain  of  his  wounds,  past  the 
dead  body  of  The  Dancer,  ghostly  white  in  the  moon- 
light, lying  a  little  apart  from  the  semicircle  of  Arabs  that 
proved  the  efficiency  of  Gaston's  shooting  where  Diana 
and  he  had  made  their  last  stand.  The  Sheik  made  no 
sign  and  did  not  check  the  headlong  gallop,  but  continued 
on,  The  Hawk  taking  the  fallen  bodies  that  lay  in  his 
path  in  his  stride,  with  only  a  quiver  of  repugnance  and 
a  snort  of  disgust.  Still  on,  past  the  huddled  bundles  of 
tumbled  draperies  that  marked  the  way  significantly, 
avoiding  them  where  the  moonlight  illuminated  brightly, 
and  riding  over  them  in  the  deep  hollows,  where  once 
Raoul's  horse  stumbled  badly  and  nearly  fell,  recovering 
himself  with  a  wild  scramble,  and  the  Vicomte  heard  the 
dead  man's  skull  crack  under  the  horse's  slipping  hoof. 

The  distant  howling  of  jackals  came  closer  and  closer 
until,  topping  one  long  rise  and  descending  into  a  hollow 
that  was  long  enough  and  wide  enough  to  be  fully  lit  by 
the  moon,  they  came  teethe  place  where  the  ambush  had 
been  laid.  Instinctively  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  knew  that 
amongst  the  jostling  heaps  of  corpses  and  dead  horses 
lay  the  bodies  of  his  own  men.    Perhaps  amongst  the 


THE  SHEIK 


209 


still  forms  from  which  the  jackals,  whose  hideous  yelling 
they  had  heard,  had  slunk  away,  there  might  be  one  left 
with  life  enough  to  give  some  news.  One  of  his  own  men 
who  would  speak  willingly,  or  one  of  Ibraheim  Omair's 
who  would  be  made  to  speak.  His  lips  curled  back  from 
his  white  teeth  in  a  grin  of  pure  cruelty. 

The  silence  that  had  prevailed  amongst  his  men  broke 
suddenly  as  they  searched  quickly  among  the  dead.  The 
Sheik  waited  impassively,  silent  amidst  the  muttered  im- 
precations and  threats  of  vengeance  of  his  followers  as 
they  laid  beside  him  the  six  remains  of  what  had  been 
Diana's  escort,  slashed  and  mutilated  almost  beyond 
recognition.  But  it  was  he  who  noticed  that  the  last 
terrible  figure  stirred  slightly  as  it  was  laid  down,  and  it 
was  into  his  face,  grown  suddenly  strangely  gentle,  that 
the  dying  Arab  looked  with  fast-filming  eyes.  The  man 
smiled,  the  happy  smile  of  a  child  that  had  obtained  an 
unexpected  reward,  and  raised  his  hand  painfully  in 
salute,  then  pointed  mutely  to  the  south. 

The  Sheik  caught  his  follower's  nerveless  fingers  as 
they  fell  in  his  own  strong  grasp,  and  with  a  last  effort 
the  Arab  drew  his  chief's  hand  to  his  forehead  and  fell 
back  dead. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Slowly  and  painfully,  through  waves  of  deadly  nausea 
and  with  the  surging  of  deep  waters  in  her  ears,  Diana 
struggled  back  to  consciousness.  The  agony  in  her  head 
was  excruciating,  and  her  limbs  felt  cramped  and  bruised. 
Recollection  was  dulled  in  bodily  pain,  and,  at  first, 
thought  was  merged  in  physical  suffering.  But  gradu- 
ally the  fog  cleared  from  her  brain  and  memory  super- 
vened hesitatingly.  She  remembered  fragmentary  inci- 
dents of  what  had  gone  before  the  oblivion  from  which 
she  had  just  emerged.  Gaston,  and  the  horror  and  reso- 
lution in  his  eyes,  the  convulsive  working  of  his  mouth 
as  he  faced  her  at  the  last  moment.  Her  own  dread  — 
not  of  the  death  that  was  imminent,  but  lest  the  mercy  it 
offered  should  be  snatched  from  her.  Then  before  the 
valet  could  effect  his  supreme  devotion  had  come  the  hail 
of  bullets,  and  he  had  fallen  against  her,  the  blood  that 
poured  from  his  wounds  saturating  her  linen  coat,  and 
rolled  over  across  her  feet.  She  remembered  vaguely 
the  wild  figures  hemming  her  in,  but  nothing  more. 

Her  eyes  were  still  shut ;  a  leaden  weight  seemed  fixed 
on  them,  and  the  effort  to  open  them  was  beyond  her 
strength.  "  Gaston,"  she  whispered  feebly,  and  stretched 
out  her  hand.  But  instead  of  his  body  or  the  dry  hot 
sand  her  fingers  had  expected  to  encounter  they  closed 
over  soft  cushions,  and  with  the  shock  she  sat  up  with  a 
jerk,  her  eyes  staring  wide,  but,  sick  and  faint,  she  fell 

2IO 


{ 


THE  SHEIK 


211 


back  again,  her  arm  flung  across  her  face,  shielding  the 
light  that  pierced  like  daggers  through  her  throbbing  eye- 
balls. For  a  while  she  lay  still,  fighting  against  the  weak- 
ness that  overpowered  her,  and  by  degrees  the  horrible 
nausea  passed  and  the  agony  in  her  head  abated,  leaving 
only  a  dull  ache.  The  desire  to  know  where  she  was  and 
what  had  happened  made  her  forget  her  bruised  body. 
She  moved  her  arm  slightly  from  before  her  eyes  so  that 
she  could  see,  and  looked  cautiously  from  under  thick 
lashes,  screened  by  the  sleeve  of  her  coat.  She  was  lying 
on  a  pile  of  cushions  in  one  corner  of  a  small  tented  apart- 
ment which  was  otherwise  bare,  except  for  the  rug  that 
covered  the  floor.  In  the  opposite  corner  of  the  tent  an 
Arab  woman  crouched  over  a  little  brazier,  and  the  smell 
of  native  coffee  was  heavy  in  the  air.  She  closed  her  eyes 
again  with  a  shudder.  The  attempted  devotion  of  Gas- 
ton had  been  useless.  This  must  be  the  camp  of  the  rob- 
ber Sheik,  Ibraheim  Omair. 

She  lay  still,  pressing  closely  down  amongst  the  cush- 
ions, and  clenching  the  sleeve  of  her  jacket  between  her 
teeth  to  stifle  the  groan  that  rose  to  her  lips.  A  lump 
came  into  her  throat  as  she  thought  of  Gaston.  In  those 
last  moments  all  inequality  of  rank  had  been  swept  away 
in  their  common  peril  —  they  had  been  only  a  white  man 
and  a  white  woman  together  in  their  extremity.  She  re- 
membered how,  when  she  had  pressed  close  to  him,  his 
hand  had  sought  and  gripped  hers,  conveying  courage  and 
sympathy.  All  that  he  could  do  he  had  done,  he  had 
shielded  her  body  with  his  own,  it  must  have  been  over 
his  lifeless  body  that  they  had  taken  her.  He  had  proved 
his  faithfulness,  sacrificing  his  life  for  his  master's  play- 
thing.   Gaston  was  in  all  probability  dead,  but  she  was 


212 


THE  SHEIK 


alive,  and  she  must  husband  her  strength  for  her  own 
needs.  She  forced  the  threatening  emotion  down,  and, 
with  an  effort,  controlled  the  violent  shivering  in  her 
limbs,  and  sat  up  slowly,  looking  at  the  Arab  woman, 
who,  hearing  her  move,  turned  to  gaze  at  her.  Instantly 
Diana  realised  that  there  was  no  help  or  compassion  to 
be  expected  from  her.  She  was  a  handsome  woman, 
who  must  have  been  pretty  as  a  girl,  but  there  was  no  sign 
of  softness  in  her  sullen  face  and  vindictive  eyes.  In- 
stinctively Diana  felt  that  the  glowing  menace  of  the 
woman's  expression  was  inspired  by  personal  hatred,  and 
that  her  presence  in  the  tent  was  objectionable  to  her. 
And  the  feeling  gave  a  necessary  spur  to  the  courage  that 
was  fast  coming  back  to  her.  She  stared  with  all  the 
haughtiness  she  could  summon  to  her  aid ;  she  had  learned 
her  own  power  among  the  natives  of  India  the  previous 
year,  and  here  in  the  desert  there  was  only  one  Arab 
whose  eyes  did  not  fall  beneath  hers,  and  presently  with 
a  muttered  word  the  woman  turned  back  to  her  coffee- 
making. 

Diana's  muscles  relaxed  and  she  sat  back  easily  on  the 
cushions,  the  little  passage  of  wills  had  restored  her  con- 
fidence in  herself.  She  moved  her  hand  and  it  brushed 
against  her  jacket,  coming  away  stained  and  sticky,  and 
she  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  all  one  side  and  sleeve 
were  soaked  with  blood.  She  ripped  it  off  with  a  shudder 
and  flung  it  from  her,  rubbing  the  red  smear  from  her 
hands  with  a  kind  of  horror. 

The  little  tent  was  intensely  hot,  and  there  was  a  close, 
pungent  smell  that  was  eminently  native  that  she  never 
experienced  in  the  cool  airiness  and  scrupulous  cleanliness 
of  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's  tents.    Her  sensitive  lip  curled 


THE  SHEIK  213 

with  disgust,  all  her  innate  fastidiousness  in  revolt.  *The 
heat  aggravated  a  burning  thirst  that  was  parching  her 
throat.  She  got  up  on  to  her  feet  slowly,  and  with  in- 
finite caution,  to  prevent  any  jar  that  might  start  again 
the  throbbing  in  her  head ;  but  the  effects  of  the  blow  were 
wearing  off,  and,  though  her  head  continued  to  ache,  it 
did  no  more  than  that,  and  the  sick,  giddy  feeling  had 
gone  completely.  She  crossed  the  tent  to  the  side  of  the 
Arab  woman. 

"  Give  me  some  water,"  she  said  in  French,  but  the 
woman  shook  her  head  without  looking  up.  Diana  re- 
peated the  request  in  Arabic,  one  of  the  few  sentences  she 
knew  without  stumbling.  This  time  the  woman  rose  up 
hastily  and  held  out  a  cup  of  the  coffee  she  had  been 
making. 

Diana  hated  the  sweet,  thick  stuff,  but  it  would  do  until 
she  could  get  the  water  she  wanted,  and  she  put  out  her 
hand  to  take  the  little  cup.  But  her  eyes  met  the  other's 
fixed  on  her,  and  something  in  their  malignant  stare  made 
her  pause.  A  sudden  suspicion  shot  through  her  mind. 
The  coffee  was  drugged.  What  beyond  the  woman's  ex- 
pression made  her  think  so  she  did  not  know,  but  she  was 
sure  of  it.    She  put  the  cup  aside  impatiently. 

"  No.    Not  coffee.    Water,"  she  said  firmly. 

Before  she  realised  what  was  happening  the  woman 
thrust  a  strong  arm  round  her  and  forced  the  cup  to  her 
lips.  That  confirmed  Diana's  suspicions  and  rage  lent  her 
additional  strength.  The  woman  was  strong,  but  Diana 
was  stronger,  younger  and  more  active.  She  dashed  the 
cup  to  the  floor,  spilling  its  contents,  and,  with  an  effort, 
tore  the  clinging  hands  from  her  and  sent  the  woman 
crashing  on  to  the  ground,  rolling  against  the  brazier,  over- 


214 


THE  SHEIK 


setting  it,  and  scattering  brass  pots  and  cups  over  the  rug. 
The  woman  scrambled  to  her  knees  and  beat  out  the 
glowing  embers,  uttering  scream  after  scream  in  a  shrill, 
piercing  voice.  And,  in  answer  to  her  cries,  a  curtain  at 
the  side  of  the  tent,  that  Diana  had  not  noticed,  slid 
aside  and  a  gigantic  Nubian  came  in.  With  outstretched 
hand  shaking  with  rage,  pointing  at  Diana,  she  burst  into 
voluble  abuse,  punctuating  every  few  words  with  the 
shrieks  that  had  brought  the  negro. 

Diana  could  understand  nothing  of  what  she  said,  but 
her  expressive  gestures  told  the  story  of  the  struggle 
plainly  enough.  The  Nubian  listened  with  white  teeth 
flashing  in  a  broad  grin,  and  shook  his  head  in  response  to 
some  request  urged  with  denunciatory  fist.  He  picked 
up  the  last  remaining  embers  that  had  scattered  on  the 
rug,  rubbing  the  smouldering  patches  till  they  were  ex- 
tinguished, and  then  turned  to  leave  the  room.  But 
Diana  called  him  back.  She  went  a  step  forward,  her 
head  high,  and  looked  him  straight  in  the  face. 

"  Fetch  me  water !  "  she  said  imperiously.  He  pointed 
to  the  coffee  that  the  woman  had  recommenced  to  make, 
her  back  turned  to  them,  but  Diana  stamped  her  foot. 
"  Water !  Bring  me  water !  "  she  said  again,  more  im- 
periously than  before.  With  a  wider  grin  the  negro 
made  a  gesture  of  acquiescence  and  went  out,  returning 
in  a  few  moments  with  a  water-skin. 

The  thought  of  its  condition  made  her  hesitate  for  a 
moment,  but  only  for  a  moment.  Her  thirst  was  too 
great  to  allow  niceties  to  interfere  with  it.  She  picked 
up  one  of  the  clean  coffee-cups  that  had  rolled  to  her  feet, 
rinsed  it  several  times,  and  then  drank.  The  water  was 
warm  and  slightly  brackish,  but  she  needed  it  too  much  to 


THE  SHEIK  215 

i^ind.  In  spite  of  being  tepid  it  relieved  the  dry,  suffocat- 
ing feeling  in  her  throat  and  refreshed  her.  The  Nubian 
went  away  again,  leaving  the  woman  still  crouching  over 
the  brazier. 

Diana  walked  back  to  the  cushions  and  dropped  down 
on  to  them  gladly.  The  events  of  the  last  few  moments 
had  tried  her  more  than  she  realised,  her  legs  were  shak- 
ing under  her,  and  she  was  thankful  to  sit  down.  But  her 
courage  had  risen  with  a  bound;  the  fact  that  she  was 
physically  stronger  than  the  woman  who  had  been  put  to 
guard  her,  and  also  that  she  had  gained  her  point  with 
the  burly  negro,  had  a  great  moral  effect  on  her,  further 
restoring  her  confidence  in  herself . 

Her  position  was  an  appalling  one,  but  hope  was  strong 
within  her.  The  fact  that  since  she  had  regained  con- 
sciousness she  had  seen  only  the  woman  and  the  Nubian 
seemed  to  argue  that  Ibraheim  Omair  must  be  absent  from 
his  camp ;  the  thought  that  he  might  purposely  be  delaying 
the  moment  of  inspecting  his  captive  with  a  view  to  pro- 
longing her  mental  torture  she  put  from  her  as  improbable. 
She  did  not  credit  him  with  so  much  acumen.  And  from 
his  absence  her  courage  gained  strength.  If  it  could  only 
be  prolonged  until  Ahmed  reached  her.  That  the  Sheik 
would  come  she  knew,  her  faith  in  him  was  unbounded. 
If  he  only  came  in  time!  Hours  had  passed  since  the 
ambuscade  had  surprised  them.  It  had  been  early  after- 
noon then.  Nov/  the  lighted  lamp  told  her  it  was  night. 
How  late  she  did  not  know.  Her  watch  had  been  broken 
some  months  before,  and  she  had  no  means  of  even  guess- 
ing the  hour,  but  it  must  be  well  on  in  the  evening.  By 
now  the  absence  of  herself  and  Gaston  and  their  escort 
would  be  discovered.    He  would  know  her  peril  and  he 


2l6 


THE  SHEIK 


would  come  to  her.  Of  that  she  had  no  doubt.  Although 
he  had  changed  so  strangely  in  the  last  few  days,  though 
the  wonderful  gentleness  of  the  last  two  months  had 
merged  again  into  indifference  and  cruelty,  still  she  never 
doubted.  Even  if  desire  had  passed  and  indifference  had 
become  so  great  that  she  was  no  longer  necessary  to  him, 
still  the  Oriental  jealousy  with  which  he  was  so  deeply 
imbued  would  never  allow  him  to  let  her  pass  so  lightly 
from  his  keeping.  He  might  discard  her  at  his  own 
pleasure,  but  no  one  would  take  her  from  him  with  im- 
punity. Her  woman's  intuition  had  sensed  the  jealousy 
that  had  actuated  him  during  the  unhappy  days  since 
Saint  Hubert  had  come.  An  inconsistent  jealousy  that 
had  been  unprovoked  and  unjustified,  but  for  which  she 
had  suffered.  She  had  known  last  night,  when  she 
winced  under  his  sarcastic  tongue,  and  later,  when  Saint 
Hubert  had  left  them  and  his  temper  had  suddenly  boiled 
over,  that  she  was  paying  for  the  unaccustomed  strain 
that  he  was  putting  on  his  own  feelings.  His  curses  had 
eaten  into  her  heart,  and  she  had  fled  from  him  to  stifle 
the  coward  instinct  that  urged  her  to  confess  her  love  and 
beg  his  mercy.  She  had  lain  awake  with  shivering  appre- 
hension waiting  for  him,  but  when,  after  nearly  twc  hours, 
he  had  sauntered  in,  the  usual  cigarette  between  his  lips, 
indifference  had  taken  the  place  of  rage,  and  he  had 
ignored  her,  as  she  had  grown  used  to  being  ignored. 
And  long  after  she  knew  from  his  even  breathing  that  he 
was  asleep  she  had  lain  wide-eyed  beside  him,  grasping  at 
what  happiness  she  could,  living  for  the  moment  as  she 
had  schooled  herself  to  live,  trying  to  be  content  with  just 
the  fact  of  his  nearness.  And  the  indifference  of  the 
night  had  been  maintained  when  he  had  left  her  at  dawn. 


THE  SHEIK 


217 


kis  persistent  silence  pointing  the  continuance  of  his  dis- 
pleasure. But  he  would  come,  if  for  no  other  reason 
than  the  same  jealousy  which  held  him  in  its  inexorable 
grip.  He  would  come !  He  would  come !  She  whis- 
pered it  over  to  herself  as  if  merely  the  sound  of  the 
words  gave  her  courage.  He  would  not  let  anything  hap- 
pen to  her.  Every  moment  that  Ibraheim  Omair  stayed 
away  was  so  much  gained,  every  moment  he  would  be 
coming  nearer.  The  reversal  of  the  role  he  played  in  her 
life  brought  a  quivering  smile  to  her  lips.  For  the  advent 
of  the  man  who  a  few  weeks  before  she  had  loathed  for 
his  brutal  abduction  of  herself  she  now  prayed  with  the 
desperation  of  despair.  He  represented  safety,  salvation, 
everything  that  made  life  worth  living. 

A  sudden  noise  and  men's  voices  in  the  adjoining  room 
sent  her  to  her  feet  with  heaving  breast  and  clenched 
hands.  But  the  sharp,  guttural  voice  predominating  over 
the  other  voices  killed  the  wild  hope  that  had  sprung  up 
in  her  by  its  utter  dissimilarity  to  the  soft  low  tones  for 
which  she  longed.  Ibraheim  Omair !  He  had  come  first ! 
She  set  her  teeth  with  a  long,  shuddering  breath,  bracing 
herself  to  meet  what  was  coming. 

The  Arab  woman  turned  to  look  at  her  again  with  a 
sneering  smile  that  was  full  of  significance,  but  beyond  a 
fleeting  glance  of  disdain  Diana  paid  no  attention  to  her. 
She  stood  rigid,  one  foot  beating  nervously  into  the  soft 
rug.  She  noticed  irrelevantly  at  the  moment  that  both 
her  spurs  and  the  empty  holster  had  been  removed  whilst 
she  was  unconscious,  and  with  the  odd  detachment  that 
transfers  a  train  of  thought  from  the  centre  of  importance 
even  at  a  supreme  moment,  she  wondered,  with  an  annoy- 
ance that  seemed  curiously  futile,  why  it  had  been  done. 


218 


THE  SHEIK 


The  voices  in  the  next  room  continued,  until  Diana 
almost  prayed  for  the  moment  she  was  waiting  for  would 
come ;  suspense  was  worse  than  the  ordeal  for  which  she 
was  nerving  herself.  It  came  at  last.  The  curtain  slid 
aside  again,  and  the  same  huge  negro  she  had  seen  before 
entered.  He  came  towards  her,  and  her  breath  hissed  in 
suddenly  between  her  set  teeth,  but  before  he  reached  her 
the  Arab  woman  intercepted  him,  blocking  his  way,  and 
with  wild  eyes  and  passionate  gestures  poured  out  a 
stream  of  low,  frenzied  words.  The  Nubian  turned  on 
her  impatiently  and  thrust  her  roughly  out  of  his  way, 
and,  coming  to  Diana,  put  out  his  hand  as  if  to  grasp  her 
arm,  but  she  stepped  back  with  flashing  eyes  and  a  gesture 
that  he  obeyed. 

Her  heart  was  pounding,  but  she  had  herself  under  con- 
trol. Only  her  hands  twitched,  her  long  fingers  curling 
and  uncurling  spasmodically,  and  she  buried  them  deep 
in  her  breeches'  pockets  to  hide  them.  She  walked  slowly 
to  the  curtain  and  nodded  to  the  Nubian  to  draw  it  aside, 
and  slower  still  she  passed  into  the  other  room.  Only  a 
little  larger  than  the  one  she  had  left,  almost  as  bare,  but 
her. mind  took  in  these  things  uncomprehendingly,  for  all 
her  attention  was  focussed  on  the  central  figure  in  the 
room. 

Ibraheim  Omair,  the  robber  Sheik,  lolling  his  great  bulk 
on  a  pile  of  cushions,  a  little  inlaid  stool  with  coffee  be- 
side him,  and  behind  him,  standing  motionless  as  if 
formed  of  bronze,  two  other  negroes,  so  like  the  one  that 
had  summoned  her  that  they  seemed  like  statues  that  had 
been  cast  from  one  mould. 

Diana  paused  for  a  moment  framed  in  the  entrance, 


THE  SHEIK  219 

then,  with  head  thrown  back  and  swaggering,  boyish  stride, 
she  moved  across  the  thick  rugs  leisurely  and  halted  in 
front  of  the  chief,  looking  straight  at  him  with  haughty, 
curling  lips  and  insolent,  half-closed  eyes.  The  hold  she 
was  exercising  over  herself  was  tremendous,  her  body 
was  rigid  with  the  effort,  and  her  hands  deep  down  in 
her  pockets  clenched  till  the  nails  bit  into  the  palms. 
Every  instinct  was  rebelling  against  the  calm  she  forced 
upon  herself.  She  longed  to  scream  and  make  a  dash 
for  the  opening  that  she  guessed  was  behind  her,  and  to 
take  her  chance  in  the  darkness  outside.  But  she  knew 
that  such  a  chance  was  impossible;  if  she  ever  reached 
the  open  air  she  would  never  be  allowed  to  get  more  than 
a  few  steps  from  the  tent.  Her  only  course  lay  in  the 
bravado  that  alone  kept  her  from  collapse.  She  must 
convey  the  impression  of  fearlessness,  though  cold  terror 
was  knocking  at  her  heart.  Masked  with  indifference  her 
veiled  eyes  were  watching  the  robber  chief  closely.  This 
was,  indeed,  the  Arab  of  her  imaginings,  this  gross,  un- 
wieldy figure  lying  among  the  tawdry  cushions,  his  swol- 
len, ferocious  face  seamed  and  lined  with  every  mark' 
of  vice,  his  full,  sensual  lips  parted  and  showing  broken, 
blackened  teeth,  his  deep-set,  bloodshot  eyes  with  a  look 
in  them  that  it  took  all  her  resolution  to  sustain,  a  look 
of  such  bestial  evilness  that  the  horror  of  it  bathed  her  in 
perspiration.  His  appearance  was  slovenly,  his  robes, 
originally  rich,  were  stained  and  tumbled,  the  fat  hands 
lying  spread  out  on  his  knees  were  engrained  with  dirt, 
showing  even  against  his  dark  skin.  His  heavy  face  lit 
up  with  a  gleam  of  malicious  satisfaction  as  Diana  came 
towards  him,  his  loose  mouth  broadened  in  a  wicked 


220 


THE  SHEIK 


smile.  He  leaned  forward  a  little,  weighing  heavily  on 
the  hands  that  were  on  his  knees,  his  eyes  roving  slowly 
over  her  till  they  rested  on  her  face  again. 

"  So !  the  white  woman  of  my  brother  Ahmed  Ben 
Hassan,"  he  said  slowly,  in  villainous  French,  with  a  sud- 
den, snarling  intonation  as  he  uttered  his  enemy's  name. 
"  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan !  May  Allah  burn  his  soul  in  hell ! 99 
he  added  with  relish,  and  spat  contemptuously. 

He  leaned  back  on  the  cushions  with  a  grunt,  and 
drank  some  coffee  noisily. 

Diana  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  him,  and  under  their  un- 
wavering stare  he  seemed  to  be  uneasy,  his  own*  inflamed 
eyes  wandering  ceaselessly  over  her,  one  hand  fumbling 
at  the  curved  hilt  of  a  knife  stuck  in  his  belt,  and  at  last 
he  grew  exasperated,  hitching  himself  forward  once  more 
and  beckoning  her  to  come  nearer  to  him.  She  hesitated, 
and  as  she  paused  uncertainly,  there  was  a  flutter  of 
draperies  behind  her,  and  the  Arab  woman  from  the  inner 
room,  evading  the  negro  who  stepped  forward  to  stop  her, 
flung  herself  at  the  feet  of  Ibraheim  Omair,  clinging  to 
his  knees  with  a  low  wailing  cry.  In  a  flash  Diana  realised 
the  meaning  of  the  hatred  that  had  gleamed  in  the  woman's 
eyes  earlier  in  the  evening.  To  her  she  was  a  rival,  whose 
coming  to  share  the  favours  of  her  lord  had  aroused  all 
the  jealousy  of  the  reigning  favourite.  A  wave  of  dis- 
gust mingled  with  the  fear  that  was  torturing  her.  She 
jerked  her  head  angrily,  fighting  against  'the  terror  that 
was  growing  on  her,  and  for  a  moment  her  lashes  drooped 
and  hid  her  eyes.  When  she  looked  up  again  the  woman 
was  still  crouched  at  the  old  Arab's  feet,  imploring  and 
distraught. 

Ibraheim  Omair  looked  down  on  her  curiously,  his  lips 


THE  SHEIK  221 

drawn  back  from  his  blackened  teeth  in  an  evil  grin,  and 
then  shook  her  off  violently  with  a  swift  blow  in  the 
mouth,  but  the  woman  clung  closer,  with  upturned,  des- 
perate face,  a  thin  trickle  of  blood  oozing  from  her  lips, 
and  with  a  hoarse  growl  that  was  like  the  dull  roar  of  a 
savage  beast  the  robber  chief  caught  her  by  the  throat 
and  held  her  for  a  moment,  her  frantic,  clutching  hands 
powerless  against  his  strong  grasp,  then  slowly  drew  the 
long  knife  from  the  ample  folds  of  his  waist-cloth,  and  as 
slowly  drove  it  home  into  the  strangling  woman's  breast 
With  savage  callousness,  before  he  released  his  hold  of 
her,  he  wiped  the  stained  knife  carefully  on  her  clothing 
and  replaced  it,  and  then  flung  the  dead  body  from 
him.  It  rolled  over  on  the  rug  midway  between  him  and 
Diana. 

There  was  a  momentary  silence  in  the  room,  and  Diana 
became  conscious  of  a  muffled,  rhythmical  beat  near  her, 
like  the  ticking  of  a  great  clock,  and  realised  with  dull 
wonder  that  it  was  her  own  heart  beating.  She  seemed 
turned  to  stone,  petrified  with  the  horror  of  the  last  few 
moments.  Her  eyes  were  glued  to  the  still  figure  on  the 
rug  before  her  with  the  gaping  wound  in  the  breast,  from 
which  the  blood  was  welling,  staining  the  dark  draperies 
of  the  woman's  clothes,  and  creeping  slowly  down  to  the 
rug  on  which  the  body  lay.  She  was  dazed,  and  odd 
thoughts  flitted  through  her  mind.  It  was  a  pity,  she 
thought  stupidly,  that  the  blood  should  spoil  the  rug.  It 
was  a  lovely  rug.  She  wondered  what  it  would  have  cost 
in  Biskra  —  less,  probably,  than  it  would  in  London. 
Then  she  forgot  the  rug  as  her  eyes  travelled  upward  to 
the  woman's  face.  The  mouth  was  open  and  the  streak 
of  blood  was  drying,  but  it  was  the  eyes,  protruding,  agon- 


222 


THE  SHEIK 


ised,  that  brought  Diana  abruptly  to  herself.  She  seemed 
to  wake  suddenly  to  the  full  realisation  of  what  had  hap- 
pened and  to  her  own  peril.  She  felt  physically  sick  for 
a  moment,  but  she  fought  it  down.  Very  slowly  she 
raised  her  head,  and,  meeting  Ibraheim  Omair's  eyes  fixed 
on  her,  she  looked  full  at  him  across  the  dead  woman's 
body  and  laughed!  It  was  that  or  shriek.  The  curls 
were  clinging  drenched  on  her  forehead,  and  she  won- 
dered if  her  clenched  hands  would  ever  unclose.  She 
must  make  no  sign,  she  must  not  scream  or  faint,  she 
must  keep  her  nerve  until  Ahmed  came.  Oh,  dear  God, 
send  him  quickly!  The  laugh  wavered  hysterically,  and 
she  caught  her  lip  between  her  teeth.  She  must  do  some- 
thing to  distract  her  attention  from  that  awful  still  shape 
at  her  feet.  Almost  unconsciously  she  grasped  the  cig- 
arette case  in  her  pocket  and  took  it  out,  dragging  her 
eyes  from  the  horrible  sight  on  which  they  were  fixed,  and 
chose  and  lit  a  cigarette  with  slow  care,  flicking  the  still- 
burning  match  on  to  the  carpet  between  the  feet  of  the 
negro  who  stood  near  her.  He  had  not  moved  since  he 
had  failed  to*  stop  the  woman's  entrance,  and  the  two  sta- 
tioned behind  the  pile  of  cushions  had  stood  motionless, 
their  eyes  hardly  following  the  tragedy  enacted  before 
them.  At  a  nod  from  the  chief  they  came  now  and  car- 
ried away  the  body  of  the  woman.  One  returned  in  a 
moment,  bringing  fresh  coffee,  and  then  vanished  noise- 
lessly. 

Then  Ibraheim  Omair  leaned  forward  with  a  horrible 
leer  and  beckoned  to  Diana,  patting  the  cushions  beside 
him.  Mastering  the  loathing  that  filled  her  she  sat  down 
with  all  the  unconcern  she  could  assume.  The  proximity 
of  the  man  nauseated  her.    He  reeked  of  sweat  and 


THE  SHEIK 


223 


grease  and  ill-kept  horses,  the  pungent  stench  of  the 
native.  Her  thoughts  went  back  to  the  other  Arab,  of 
whose  habits  she  had  been  forced  into  such  an  intimate 
knowledge.  Remembering  all  that  she  had  heard  of  the 
desert  people  she  had  been  surprised  at  the  fastidious  care 
he  took  of  himself,  the  frequent  bathing,  the  spotless 
cleanliness  of  his  robes,  the  fresh  wholesomeness  that 
clung  about  him,  the  faint,  clean  smell  of  shaving-soap 
mingling  with  the  perfume  of  the  Turkish  tobacco  that 
was  always  associated  with  him. 
The  contrast  was  hideous. 

She  refused  the  coffee  he  offered  her  with  a  shake  of 
her  head,  paying  no  attention  to  his  growl  of  protest,  not 
even  understanding  it,  for  he  spoke  in  Arabic.  As  she 
laid  down  the  end  of  her  cigarette  with  almost  the  feeling 
of  letting  go  a  sheet  anchor  —  for  it  had  at  least  kept  her 
lips  from  trembling  —  his  fat  hand  closed  about  her 
wrist  and  he  jerked  her  towards  him. 

"  How  many  rifles  did  the  Frenchman  bring  to  that  son 
of  darkness  ?  "  he  said  harshly. 

She  turned  her  head,  surprised  at  the  question,  and 
met  his  bloodshot  eyes  fixed  on  hers,  half -menacing,  half- 
admiring,  and  looked  away  again  hastily.  "  I  do  not 
know." 

His  fingers  tightened  on  her  wrist.  "  How  many  men 
had  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  in  the  camp  in  which  he  kept 
you  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  I  do  not  know !  I  do  not  know !  "  he  echoed  with  a 
sudden  savage  laugh.  "  You  will  know  when  I  have  done 
with  you."  He  crushed  her  wrist  until  she  winced  with 
pain,  and  turned  her  head  away  further  that  she  might  not 


224 


THE  SHEIK 


see  his  face.  Question  after  question  relating  to  the  Sheik 
and  his  tribe  followed  in  rapid  succession,  but  to  all  of 
them  Diana  remained  silent,  with  averted  head  and  com- 
pressed lips.  He  should  not  learn  anything  from  her  that 
might  injure  the  man  she  loved,  though  he  tortured  her, 
though  her  life  paid  the  price  of  her  silence,  as  it  probably 
would.  She  shivered  involuntarily.  "  Shall  I  tell  you 
what  they  would  do  to  him  ?  99  She  could  hear  the  Sheik's 
voice  plainly  as  on  the  night  when  she  had  asked  him  what 
Gaston's  fate  would  be  at  the  hands  of  Ibraheim  Omair. 
She  could  hear  the  horrible  meaning  he  had  put  into  the 
words,  she  could  see  the  terrible  smile  that  had  accom- 
panied them.  Her  breath  came  faster,  but  her  courage 
still  held.  She  clung  desperately  to  the  hope  that  was  sus- 
taining her.  Ahmed  must  come  in  time.  She  forced 
down  the  torturing  doubts  that  whispered  that  he  might 
never  find  her,  that  he  might  come  too  late,  that  when  he 
came  she  might  be  beyond  a  man's  desire. 

Ibraheim  Omair  ceased  his  questioning.  "Later  you 
will  speak,"  he  said  significantly,  and  drank  more  coffee. 
And  his  words  revived  the  agonising  thoughts  she  had 
crushed  down.  Her  vivid  imagination  conjured  up  the 
same  ghastly  mental  pictures  that  had  appalled  her  when 
she  had  applied  them  to  Gaston,  but  now  it  was  herself 
who  was  the  central  figure  in  all  the  horrors  she  imagined, 
until  thd  juddering  she  tried  to  suppress  shook  her  from 
head  to  foot,  and  she  clenched  her  teeth  to  stop  them 
chattering. 

Ibraheim  Omair  kept  his  hold  upon  her,  and  presently, 
with  a  horrible  loathing,  she  felt  his  hand  passing  over  her 
arm,  her  neck,  and  down  the  soft  curves  of  her  slim  young 


THE  SHEIK 


225 


body,  then  with  a  muttered  ejaculation  he  forced  her  to 
s  face  him. 

V  "What  are  you  listening  for?  You  think  that  Ahmed 
Ben  Hassan  will  come?  Little  fool!  He  has  forgotten 
you  already.  There  are  plenty  more  white  women  in 
Algiers  and  Oran  that  he  can  buy  with  his  gold  and  his 
devil  face.  The  loves  of  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  are  as  the 
stars  in  number.  They  come  and  go  like  the  swift  wind 
in  the  desert,  a  hot  breath  —  and  it's  finished.  He  will 
not  come,  and  if  he  does,  he  will  not  find  you,  for  in  an 
hour  we  shall  be  gone." 

Diana  writhed  in  his  grasp.  The  hateful  words  in  the 
guttural  voice,  pronounced  in  vile  French,  the  leering, 
vicious  face  with  the  light  of  admiration  growing  in  the 
bloodshot  eyes,  were  all  a  ghastly  nightmare.  With  a 
sudden  desperate  wrench  she  freed  herself  and  fled  across 
the  tent  —  panic-stricken  at  last.  But  in  her  blind  rush 
she  tripped,  and  with  a  swiftness  that  seemed  incom- 
patible with  his  unwieldiness  Ibraheim  Omair  followed 
her  and  caught  her  in  his  arms.  Struggling  he  carried 
her  to  the  divan.  For  a  moment  he  paused,  and  in- 
stinctively Diana  lay  still,  reserving  her  strength  for  the 
final  struggle. 

"  One  hour,  my  little  gazelle,  one  hour  "  he  said 

hoarsely,  and  bent  his  face  to  hers. 

With  a  cry  Diana  flung  her  head  aside  and  strained 
away  from  him,  fighting  with  the  strength  of  madness. 
She  fought  like  a  boy  with  a  swift  thought  of  gratitude 
for  Aubrey's  training,  and  twisting  and  writhing  she 
managed  to  slip  through  his  grasp  until  her  feet  rested  on 
the  ground.    But  his  grip  on  her  never  relaxed;  he 


226 


THE  SHEIK 


dragged  her  back  to  him,  resisting  fiercely,  ripping  the  thin 
shirt  from  her  shoulders,  baring  her  white,  heaving  bosom. 
Gasping,  she  struggled,  until,  little  by  little,  his  arms 
closed  round  her  again.  She  braced  her  hands  against  his 
chest,  fending  him  from  her  till  she  felt  the  muscles  in  her 
arms  must  crack,  but  the  crushing  force  of  his  whole 
weight  was  bearing  her  steadily  backwards,  and  down- 
wards on  to  the  soft  cushions  beside  them.  His  hot 
breath  was  on  her  face,  the  sickening  reek  of  his  clothes 
was  in  her  nostrils.  She  felt  her  resistance  growing 
weaker,  h^f8  heart  was  labouring,  beating  with  wild  bounds 
that  suffocated  her,  the  strength  was  going  from  her  arms, 
only  a  moment  more  and  her  force  would  be  exhausted. 
Her  brain  was  growing  numbed,  as  it  had  been  when  the 
man  who  held  her  had  murdered  the  woman  before  her 
eyes.  If  he  would  only  kill  her  now.  Death  would  be 
easy  compared  with  this.  The  faint  hope  that  still  lin- 
gered was  almost  extinguished.  Ahmed  had  not  come, 
and  in  her  agony  the  thought  of  him  was  a  further  tor- 
ture. The  sneering  words  of  Ibraheim  Omair  had  not 
shaken  her  faith.  He  would  come,  but  he  would  come 
too  late.  He  would  never  know  now  that  she  1oved  him. 
Oh,  God!  How  she  loved  him!  Ahmed!  Ahmed! 
And  with  the  soundless  cry  the  last  remnant  of  her 
strength  went  all  at  once,  and  she  fell  weakly  against  the 
chief.  He  forced  her  to  her  knees,  and,  with  his  hand 
twined  brutally  in  her  curls,  thrust  her  head  back.  There 
was  a  mad  light  in  his  eyes  and  a  foam  on  his  lips  as 
he  dragged  the  knife  from  his  waistbelt  and  laid  the  keen 
edge  against  her  throat.  She  did  not  flinch,  and  after  a 
moment  he  dropped  it  with  a  horrible  laugh. 

"  No,  afterwards,"  he  said,  and  picked  her  up  unresist- 


THE  SHEIK 


227 


ingly.  He  flung  her  on  the  cushions  and  for  one  awful 
moment  she  felt  his  hands  on  her.  Then  from  outside 
came  a  sudden  uproar  and  the  sharp  crack  of  rifles. 
Then  in  a  lull  in  the  firing  the  Sheik's  powerful  voice: 
"Diane!  Diane!" 

His  voice  and  the  knowledge  of  his  nearness  gave  her 
new  strength.  She  leaped  up  in  spite  of  Ibraheim 
Omair's  gripping  hands.  "  Ahmed !  "  she  screamed  once, 
then  the  chief's  hand  dashed  against  her  mouth,  but,  fran- 
tic, she  caught  it  in  her  teeth,  biting  it  to  the  bone,  and  as 
he  wrenched  it  away,  shrieked  again,  "Ahmed! 
Ahmed!" 

But  it  seemed  impossible  that  her  voice  could  be  heard 
above  the  demoniacal  noise  outside  the  tent,  and  she  could 
not  call  again,  for,  with  a  snarl  of  rage,  the  chief  caught 
her  by  the  throat  as  he  had  caught  the  Arab  woman. 
And  like  the  Arab  woman  her  hands  tore  at  his  gripping 
fingers  vainly.  Choking,  stifling  with  the  agony  in  her 
throat,  her  lungs  seemed  bursting,  the  blood  was  beating 
in  her  ears  like  the  deafening  roar  of  waves,  and  the  room 
was  darkening  with  the  film  that  was  creeping  over  her 
eyes.  Her  hands  fell  powerless  to  her  sides  and  her  knees 
gave  way  limply.  He  was  holding  her  upright  only  by 
the  clutch  on  her  throat.  The  drumming  in  her  ears  grew 
louder,  the  tent  was  fading  away  into  blackness.  Dimly, 
with  no  kind  of  emotion,  she  realised  that  he  was  squeez- 
ing the  life  out  of  her  and  she  heard  his  voice  coming,  as 
it  were,  from  a  great  distance :  "  You  will  not  languish 
long  in  Hawiyat  without  your  lover.  I  will  send  him 
quickly  to  you." 

She  was  almost  unconscious,  but  she  heard  the  sneering 
voice  break  suddenly  and  the  deadly  pressure  on  her  throat 


228 


THE  SHEIK 


relaxed  as  the  chief's  hands  rapidly  transferred  their 
grip  to  her  aching  shoulders,  swinging  her  away  from  him 
and  in  front  of  him.  To  lift  her  head  was  agony,  and 
the  effort  brought  back  the  black  mist  that  had  lessened 
with  the  slackening  of  Ibraheim  Omair's  ringers  round  her 
neck,  but  it  cleared  again  sufficiently  for  her  to  see. 
through  a  blurring  haze,  the  outline  of  the  tall  figure  that 
was  facing  her,  standing  by  the  ripped-back  doorway. 

There  was  a  pause,  a  silence  that  contrasted  oddly  with 
the  tumult  outside,  and  Diana  wondered  numbly  why 
the  Sheik  did  nothing,  why  he  did  not  use  the  revolver 
that  was  clenched  in  his  hand  Then  slowly  she  under- 
stood that  he  dared  not  fire,  that  the  chief  was  holding 
her,  a  living  shield,  before  him,  sheltering  himself  behind 
the  only  thing  that  would  deter  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's 
unerring  shots.  Cautiously  Ibraheim  Omair  moved 
backward,  still  holding  her  before  him,  hoping  to  gain  the 
inner  room.  But  in  the  shock  of  his  enemy's  sudden  ap- 
pearance he  miscalculated  the  position  of  the  divan  and 
stumbled  against  it,  losing  his  balance  for  only  a  moment, 
but  long  enough  to  give  the  man  whose  revolver  covered 
him  the  chance  he  wanted.  With  the  cold  ring  of  steel 
pressing  against  his  forehead  the  robber  chief's  hands 
dropped  from  Diana,  and  she  slid  weak  and  trembling  on 
to  the  rug,  clasping  her  pulsating  throat,  moaning  with 
the  effort  that  it  was  to  breathe. 

For  a  moment  the  two  men  looked  into  each  other's 
eyes  and  the  knowledge  of  death  leaped  into  Ibraheim 
Omair's.  With  the  fatalism  of  his  creed  he  made  no 
resistance,  as,  with  a  slow,  terrible  smile,  the  Sheik's  left 
hand  reached  out  and  fastened  on  his  throat.  It  would 
be  quicker  to  shoot,  but  as  Diana  had  suffered  so  should 


THE  SHEIK 


229 


her  torturer  die.  All  the  savagery  in  his  nature  rose 
uppermost.  Beside  the  pitiful,  gasping  little  figure  on  the 
rug  at  his  feet  there  was  the  memory  of  six  mutilated 
^bodies,  his  faithful  followers,  men  of  his  own  age  who 
vhad  grown  to  manhood  with  him,  picked  men  of  his 
personal  bodyguard  who  had  been  intimately  connected 
with  him  all  his  life,  and  who  had  served  him  with  devo- 
tion and  unwavering  obedience.  They  and  others  who 
had  from  time  to  time  fallen  victims  to  Ibraheim  Omair's 
hatred  of  his  more  powerful  enemy.  The  man  who  was 
responsible  for  their  deaths  was  in  his  power  at  last,  the 
man  whose  existence  was  a  menace  and  whose  life  was 
an  offence,  of  whose  subtleties  he  had  been  trained  from 
a  boy  to  beware  by  the  elder  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan,  who  had 
bequeathed  to  him  the  tribal  hatred  of  the  race  of  whom 
Ibraheim  Omair  was  head,  and  whose  dying  words  had 
been  the  wish  that  his  successor  might  himself  exterminate 
the  hereditary  enemy.  But  far  beyond  the  feelings  in- 
spired by  tribal  hatred  or  the  remembrance  of  the  vow 
made  five  years  ago  beside  the  old  Sheik's  deathbed,  or 
even  the  death  of  his  own  followers,  was  the  desire  to 
kill,  with  his  bare  hands,  the  man  who  had  tortured  the 
woman  he  loved.  The  knowledge  of  her  peril,  that  had 
driven  him  headlong  through  the  night  to  her  aid,  the 
sight  of  her  helpless,  agonised,  in  the  robber  chief's  hands, 
had  filled  him  with  a  madness  that  only  the  fierce  joy  of 
killing  would  cure.  Before  he  could  listen  to  the  clamour- 
ing of  the  new  love  in  his  heart,  before  he  could  gather  up 
into  his  arms  the  beloved  little  body  that  he  was  yearning 
for,  he  had  to  destroy  the  man  whose  murders  were  count- 
less and  who  had  at  last  fallen  into  his  hands. 
The  smile  on  his  face  deepened  and  his  fingers  tightened 


230 


THE  SHEIK 


slowly  on  their  hold.  But  with  the  strangling  clasp  of 
Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's  hands  upon  him  the  love  of  life 
waked  again  in  Ibraheim  Omair  and  he  struggled  fiercely. 
Crouched  on  the  floor  Diana  watched  the  two  big  figures 
swaying  in  mortal  combat  with  wide,  fearful  eyes,  her 
hands  still  holding  her  aching  throat.  Ibraheim  Omair 
wrestled  for  his  life,  conscious  of  his  own  strength,  but 
conscious  also  of  the  greater  strength  that  was  opposed 
to  him.  The  Sheik  let  go  the  hold  upon  his  throat  and 
with  both  arms  locked  about  him  manoeuvred  to  get  the 
position  he  required,  back  to  the  divan.  Then,  with  a 
wrestler's  trick,  he  swept  Ibraheimrs  feet  from  under  him 
and  sent  his  huge  body  sprawling  on  to  the  cushions,  his 
knee  on  his  enemy's  chest,  his  hands  on  his  throat.  With 
all  his  weight  crushing  into  the  chief's  breast,  with  the 
terrible  smile  always  on  his  lips,  he  choked  him  slowly  to 
death,  till  the  dying  man's  body  arched  and  writhed  in  his 
last  agony,  till  the  blood  burst  from  his  nose  and  mouth, 
pouring  over  the  hands  that  held  him  like  a  vice. 

Diana's  eyes  never  left  the  Sheik's  face,  she  felt  the 
old  paralysing  fear  of  him  rushing  over  her,  irresistibly 
drowning  for  the  moment  even  the  love  she  had  for  him. 
She  had  seen  him  in  cruel,  even  savage  moods,  but  nothing 
that  had  ever  approached  the  look  of  horrible  pleasure 
that  was  on  his  face  now.  It  was  a  revelation  of  the  real 
man  with  the  thin  layer  of  civilisation  stripped  from  him, 
leaving  only  the  primitive  savage  drunk  with  the  lust  of 
blood.  And  she  was  afraid,  with  a  shuddering  horror,  of 
the  merciless,  crimson-stained  hands  that  would  touch  her, 
of  the  smiling,  cruel  mouth  that  would  be  pressed  on  hers, 
and  of  the  murderous  light  shining  in  his  fierce  eyes. 
But  for  the  dying  wretch  expiating  his  crimes  so  hideously 


THE  SHEIK 


231 


she  felt  no  pity,  he  was  beyond  all  sympathy.  She  had 
seen  him  murder  wantonly,  and  she  knew  what  her  own 
fate  would  have  been  if  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had  not 
come.  And  the  retribution  was  swift.  The  Sheik  was 
-  being  more  merciful  to  him  than  the  robber  chief  had  been 
to  many,  a  few  moments  of  agony  instead  of  hours  of 
lingering  torture. 

The  noise  outside  the  tent  was  growing  louder  as  the 
fighting  rolled  back  in  its  direction,  and  once  or  twice  a 
bullet  ripped  through  the  hangings.  One  that  came 
closer  than  the  others  made  Diana  turn  her  head  and  she 
saw  what  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan,  absorbed  in  the  fulfilment 
of  his  horrible  task,  had  not  even  thought  of  —  the  three 
big  negroes  and  a  dozen  Arabs  who  had  stolen  in  silently 
from  the  inner  room.  For  once,  in  the  intoxication  of 
the  moment,  the  Sheik  was  careless  and  caught  off  his 
guard.  Agony  leaped  into  her  eyes.  The  fear  of  him 
was  wiped  out  in  the  fear  for  him.  She  tried  to  warn 
him,  but  no  sound  would  come  from  her  throbbing  throat, 
and  she  crawled  nearer  to  him  and  touched  him.  He 
dropped  the  dead  chief  back  into  the  tumbled  cushions  and 
looked  up  swiftly,  and  at  the  same  moment  Ibraheim 
Omair's  men  made  a  rush.  Without  a  word  he  thrust  her 
behind  the  divan  and  turned  to  meet  them.  Before  his 
revolver  they  gave  way  for  a  moment,  but  the  burly 
Nubians  behind  swept  the  Arabs  forward.  Three  times 
he  fired  and  one  of  the  negroes  and  two  Arabs  fell,  but 
the  rest  hurled  themselves  on  him,  and  Diana  saw  him 
surrounded.  His  strength  was  abnormal,  and  for  some 
minutes  the  struggling  mass  of  men  strained  and  heaved 
about  him.  Diana  was  on  her  feet,  swaying  giddily, 
powerless  to  help  him,  cold  with  dread.    Then  above  the 


232 


THE  SHEIK 


clamour  that  was  raging  inside  and  out  she  heard  Saint 
Hubert's  voice  shouting,  and  with  a  shriek  that  seemed  to 
rip  her  tortured  throat  she  called  to  him.  The  Sheik, 
too,  heard,  and  with  a  desperate  effort  for  a  moment  won 
clear,  but  one  of  the  Nubians  was  behind  him,  and,  as 
Saint  Hubert  and  a  crowd  of  the  Sheik's  own  men  poured 
in  through  the  opening,  he  brought  down  a  heavy  club 
with  crashing  force  on  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's  head,  and 
as  he  fell  another  drove  a  broad  knife  deep  into  his  back. 
For  a  few  minutes  more  the  tramping  feet  surged  back- 
ward and  forward  over  the  Sheik's  prostrate  body. 
Diana  tried  to  get  to  him,  faint  and  stumbling,  flung  here 
and  there  by  the  fighting,  struggling  men,  until  a  strong 
hand  caught  her  and  drew  her  aside.  She  strained 
against  the  detaining  arm,  but  it  was  one  of  Ahmed's  men, 
and  she  gave  in  as  a  growing  faintness  came  over  her. 
Mistily  she  saw  Saint  Hubert  clear  a  way  to  his  friend's 
side,  and  then  she  fainted,  but  only  for  a  few  moments. 
Saint  Hubert  was  still  on  his  knees  beside  the  Sheik  when 
she  opened  her  eyes,  and  the  tent  was  quite  quiet,  filled 
with  tribesmen  waiting  in  stoical  silence.  The  camp  of 
Ibraheim  Omair  had  been  wiped  out,  but  Ahmed  Ben 
Hassan's  men  looked  only  at  the  unconscious  figure  of 
their  leader. 

Saint  Hubert  glanced  up  hastily  as  Diana  came  to  his 
side.  "  You  are  all  right  ?  "  he  asked  anxiously,  but  she 
did  not  answer.    What  did  it  matter  about  her? 

"  Is  he  going  to  die  ?  "  she  said  huskily,  for  speaking 
still  hurt  horribly. 

"  I  don't  know  —  but  we  must  get  away  from  here.  I 
need  more  appliances  than  I  have  with  me,  and  we  are 
too  few  to  stay  and  risk  a  possible  attack  if  there  are 


THE  SHEIK 


233 


others  of  Ibraheim  Omair's  men  in  the  neighbourhood." 

Diana  looked  down  on  the  wounded  man  fearfully. 

But  the  ride  —  the  jolting,"  she  gasped. 

"  It  has  got  to  be  risked,"  replied  Saint  Hubert  abruptly. 

Of  the  long,  terrible  journey  back  to  Ahmed  Ben  Has- 
san's camp  Diana  never  remembered  very  much.  It  was 
an  agony  of  dread  and  apprehension,  of  momentary  wait- 
ing for  some  word  or  exclamation  from  the  powerful 
Arab  who  was  holding  him,  or  from  Saint  Hubert,  who 
was  riding  beside  him,  that  would  mean  his  death,  and  of 
momentary  respites  from  fear  and  faint  glimmerings  of 
hope  as  the  minutes  dragged  past  and  the  word  she  was 
dreading  did  not  come.  Once  a  sudden  halt  seemed  to 
stop  her  heart  beating,  but  it  was  only  to  give  a  moment's 
rest  to  the  Arab  whose  strength  was  taxed  to  the  uttermost 
with  the  Sheik's  inert  weight,  but  who  refused  to  sur- 
render his  privilege  to  any  other.  Moments  of  semi* 
unconsciousness,  when  she  swayed  against  the  arm  of 
the  watchful  tribesman  riding  beside  her,  and  his  muttered 
ejaculation  of  "Allah!  Allah!"  sent  a  whispered  suppli- 
cation to  her  own  lips  to  the  God  they  both  worshipped 
so  differently.  He  must  not  die.  God  would  not  be  so 
cruel. 

From  time  to  time  Saint  Hubert  spoke  to  her,  and  the 
quiet  courage  of  his  voice  steadied  her  breaking  nerves. 
As  they  passed  the  scene  of  the  ambuscade  he  told  her  of 
Gaston.  It  was  there  that  the  first  band  of  waiting  men 
met  them,  warned  already  of  their  coming  by  a  couple  of 
Arabs  whom  the  Vicomte  had  sent  on  in  advance  with  the 
news. 

The  dawn  was  breaking  when  they  reached  the  camp. 
Diana  had  a  glimpse  of  rows  of  unusually  silent  men 


234, 


THE  SHEIK 


grouped  beside  the  tent,  but  all  her  mind  was  concentrated 
on  the  long,  limp  figure  that  was  being  carefully  lifted 
down  from  the  sweating  horse.  They  carried  him  into  the 
tent  and  laid  him  on  the  divan,  beside  which  Henri 
had  already  put  out  all  the  implements  that  his  master 
would  need. 

While  Saint  Hubert,  with  difficulty,  cleared  the  tent  of 
the  Sheik's  men  Diana  stood  beside  the  divan  and  looked 
at  him.  He  was  soaked  in  blood  that  had  burst  through 
the  temporary  bandages,  and  his  whole  body  bore  evi- 
dence of  the  terrible  struggle  that  had  gone  before  the 
blow  that  had  felled  him.  One  blood-covered  hand  hung 
down  almost  touching  the  rug.  Diana  lifted  it  in  her 
own,  and  the  touch  of  the  nerveless  ringers  sent  a  sob  into 
her  throat.  She  caught  her  lip  between  her  teeth  to  stop 
it  trembling  as  she  laid  his  hand  down  on  the  cushions. 
Saint  Hubert  came  to  her,  rolling  up  his  shirt-sleeves  sig- 
nificantly. 

"  Diane,  you  have  been  through  enough,"  he  said  gently. 
"  Go  and  rest  while  I  do  what  I  can  for  Ahmed.  I  will 
come  and  tell  you  as  soon  as  I  am  finished." 

She  \u  >ked  up  fiercely.  "  It's  no  good  telling  me  to  go 
away,  because  I  won't.  I  must  help  you.  I  can  help 
you.  I  shall  go  mad  if  you  don't  let  me  do  something. 
See!  My  hands  are  quite  steady."  She  held  them  out 
as  she  spoke,  and  Saint  Hubert  gave  in  without  opposition. 

The  weakness  that  had  sent  her  trembling  into  his  arms 
the  day  before  had  been  the  fear  of  danger  to  the  man  she 
loved,  but  in  the  face  of  actual  need  the  courage  that  was 
so  much  a  part  of  her  nature  did  not  fail  her.  He  made 
no  more  remonstrances,  but  set  about  his  work  quickly. 
And  all  through  the  horrible  time  that  followed  she  did 


THE  SHEIK 


235 


not  falter.  Her  face  was  deadly  pale,  and  dark  lines 
showed  below  her  eyes,  but  her  hands  did  not  shake,  and 
her  voice  was  low  and  even.  She  suffered  horribly.  The 
terrible  wound  that  the  Nubian's  knife  had  made  was 
like  a  wound  in  her  own  heart.  She  winced  as  if  the 
hurt  had  been  her  own  when  Saint  Hubert's  gentle,  dex- 
terous ringers  touched  the  Sheik's  bruised  head.  And 
when  it  was  over  and  Raoul  had  turned  aside  to  wash  his 
hands,  she  slipped  on  to  her  knees  beside  him.  Would 
he  live  ?  The  courage  that  had  kept  her  up  so  far  had  not 
extended  to  asking  Saint  Hubert  again,  and  a  few  mut- 
tered words  from  Henri,  to  which  the  Vicomte  had  re- 
sponded with  only  a  shrug,  had  killed  the  words  that 
were  hovering  on  her  lips.  She  looked  at  him  with 
anguished  eyes. 

Only  a  few  hours  before  he  had  come  to  her  in  all  the 
magnificence  of  his  strength.  She  looked  at  the  long 
limbs  lying  now  so  still,  so  terribly,  suggestively  still, 
and  her  lips  trembled  again,  but  her  pain-filled  eyes  were 
dry.  She  could  not  cry,  only  her  throat  ached  and 
throbbed  perpetually.  She  leaned  over  him  whispering 
his  name,  and  a  sudden  hunger  came  to  her  to  touch  him, 
to  convince  herself  that  he  was  not  dead.  She  glanced 
back  oy,er  her  shoulder  at  Saint  Hubert,  but  he  had  gone 
to  the  open  doorway  to  speak  to  Yusef ,  and  was  standing 
out  under  the  awning.  She  bent  lower  over  the  uncon- 
scious man;  his  lips  were  parted  slightly,  and  the  usual 
sternness  of  his  mouth  was  relaxed. 

"  Ahmed,  oh,  my  dear !  "  she  whispered  unsteadily,  and 
kissed  him  with  lips  that  quivered  against  the  stillness  of 
his.  Then  for  a  moment  she  dropped  her  bright  head 
beside  the  'bandaged  one  on  the  pillow,  but  when  the 


236 


THE  SHEIK 


1 


Vicomte  came  back  she  was  kneeling  where  he  had  left 
her,  her  hands  clasped  over  one  of  the  Sheik's  and  her 
face  hidden  against  the  cushions. 

Saint  Hubert  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder.  "  Diane, 
you  are  torturing  yourself  unnecessarily.  We  cannot 
know  for  some  time  how  it  will  go  with  him.  Try  and  get 
some  sleep  for  a  few  hours.  You  can  do  no  good  by 
staying  here.  Henri  and  I  will  watch.  I  will  call  you  if 
there  is  any  change,  my  word  of  honour." 

She  shook  her  head  without  looking  up.  "  I  can't  go. 
I  couldn't  sleep." 

Saint  Hubert  did  not  press  it.  "Very  well,"  he  said 
quietly,  "  but  if  yoU  are  going  to  stay  you  must  take  off 
your  riding-boots  and  put  on  something  more  comfortable 
than  those  clothes." 

She  realised  the  sense  of  what  he  was  saying,  and 
obeyed  him  without  a  word.  She  even  had  to  admit  to 
herself  a  certain  sensation  of  relief  after  she  had  bathed 
her  aching  head  and  throat,  and  substituted  a  thin,  silk 
wrap  for  the  torn,  stained  riding-suit. 

Henri  was  pouring  out  coffee  when  she  came  back,  and 
Saint  Hubert  turned  to  her  with  a  cup  in  his  outstretched 
hand.  "  Please  take  it.  It  will  do  you  good,"  he  said, 
with  a  little  smile  that  was  not  reflected  in  his  anxious 
eyes. 

She  took  it  unheeding,  and,  swallowing  it  hastily,  went 
to  the  side  of  the  divan  again.  She  slid  down  on  to  the 
rug  where  she  had  knelt  before.  The  Sheik  was  lying  as 
she  had  left  him.  For  a  few  moments  she  looked  at  him, 
then  drowsily  her  eyes  closed  and  her  head  fell  forward 
on  the  cushions,  and  with  a  half-sad  smile  of  satisfaction 
Saint  Hubert  gathered  her  up  into  his  arms. 


THE  SHEIK 


237 


He  carried  her  into  the  bedroom,  hesitating  beside  the 
couch  before  he  put  her  down.  Surely  one  moment  out 
of  a  lifetime  might  be  granted  to  him.  He  would  never 
have  the  torturing  happiness  of  holding  her  in  his  arms 
again,  would  never  again  clasp  her  against  the  heart  that 
was  crying  out  for  her  with  the  same  mad  passion  that 
had  swept  over  him  yesterday.  He  looked  down  long- 
ingly on  the  pale  face  lying  against  his  arm,  and  his 
features  contracted  at  the  sight  of  the  cruel  marks  marring 
the  whiteness  of  her  delicate  throat.  The  love  that  all 
his  life  he  had  longed  for,  that  he  had  sought  vainly 
through  many  countries,  had  come  to  him  at  last,  and  it 
had  come  too  late.  The  helpless  loveliness  lying  in  his 
arms  was  not  for  him.  It  was  Ahmed  whom  she  loved, 
Ahmed  who  had  waked  to  such  a  tardy  recognition  of  the 
priceless  gift  that  she -had  given  him,  Ahmed  whom  he 
must  wrest  from  the  grim  spectre  that  was  hovering  near 
him  lest  the  light  that  shone  in  her  violet  eyes  should  go 
out  in  the  blackness  of  despair.  And  yet  as  he  looked  at 
her  with  eyes  filled  with  hopeless  misery  a  demon  of 
suggestion  whispered  within  him,  tempting  him.  He 
knew  his  friend  as  no  one  else  did.  What  chance  of 
happiness  had  any  woman  with  a  man  like  Ahmed  Ben 
Hassan,  at  the  mercy  of  his  savage  nature  and  passionate 
changeable  moods  ?  What  reason  to  suppose  that  the  love 
that  had  flamed  up  so  suddenly  at  the  thought  that  he  had 
lost  her  would  survive  the  knowledge  of  repossession? 
To  him,  all  his  life,  a  thing  desired  had  upon  possession 
become  valueless.  With  the  fulfilment  of  acquisition  had 
come  always  disinterest.  The  pleasure  of  pursuit  faded 
with  ownership.  Would  this  hapless  girl  who  had  poured 
out  such  a  wealth  of  love  at  the  feet  of  the  man  who  had 


238 


THE  SHEIK 


treated  her  brutally  fare  any  better  at  his  hands?  Her 
chance  was  slight,  if  any.  Ahmed  in  the  full  power  of 
his  strength  again  would  be  the  man  he  had  always  been, 
implacable,  cruel,  merciless.  Saint  Hubert's  own  longing, 
his  passionate,  Gallic  temperament,  were  driving  him  as 
they  had  driven  him  the  day  before.  The  longing  to  save 
her  from  misery  was  acute,  that,  and  his  own  love, 
prompted  by  the  urging  of  the  desire  within  him.  Then 
he  trembled,  and  a  great  fear  of  himself  came  over  him. 
Ahmed  was  his  friend.  Who  was  he  that  he  should 
judge  him?  He  could  at  least  be  honest  with  himself,  he 
could  own  the  truth.  He  coveted  what  was  not  his,  and 
masked  his  envy  with  a  hypocrisy  that  now  appeared  con- 
temptible. The  clasp  of  his  arms  around  her  seemed  sud- 
denly a  profanation,  and  he  laid  her  down  very  gently  on 
the  low  couch,  drawing  the  thin  coverlet  over  her,  and 
went  back  slowly  to  the  other  room. 

He  sent  Henri  away  and  sat  down  beside  the  divan  to 
watch  with  a  feeling  of  weariness  that  was  not  bodily. 
The  great  tent  was  very  still,  a  pregnant  silence  seemed  to 
hang  in  the  air,  a  brooding  hush  that  strained  Saint 
Hubert's  already  overstrained  nerves.  He  had  need  of 
all  his  calm,  and  he  gripped  himself  resolutely.  For  a 
time  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  lay  motionless,  and  then,  as  the 
day  crept  on  and  the  early  rays  of  the  warm  sun  rilled 
the  tent,  he  moved  uneasily,  and  began  to  mutter  fever- 
ishly in  confused  Arabic  and  French.  At  first  the  words 
that  came  were  almost  unintelligible,  pouring  out  with 
rapid  indistinctness,  then  by  degrees  his  voice  slowed,  and 
hesitating,  interrupted  sentences  came  clearly  from  his 
lips.  And  beside  him,  with  his  face  buried  in  his  hands, 
Raoul  de  Saint  Hubert  thanked  God  fervently  that  he  had 


THE  SHEIK 

saved  Diana  the  added  torture  of  listening  to  the  revela- 
tions of  the  past  four  months. 

The  first  words  were  in  Arabic,  then  the  slow,  soft  voice 
lapsed  into  French,  pure  as  the  Vicomte's  own. 
l^"  Two  hours  south  of  the  oasis  with  the  three  broken 
palm  trees  by  the  well.  .  .  .  Lie  still,  you  little  fool,  it  is 
useless  to  struggle.  You  cannot  get  away,  I  shall  not  let 
you  go.  .  .  .  Why  have  I  brought  you  here?  You  ask 
me  why?  Mon  Dieu!  Are  you  not  woman  enough  to 
know  ?  No !  I  will  not  spare  you.  Give  me  what  I 
want  willingly  and  I  will  be  kind  to  you,  but  fight  me,  and 
by  Allah!  you  shall  pay  the  cost!  ,  .  .  I  know  you  hate 
me,  you  have  told  me  so  already.  Shall  I  make  you  love 
me?  .  .  .  Still  disobedient?  When  will  you  learn  that  I 
am  master?  ...  I  have  not  tired  of  you  yet,  you  lovely 
little  wild  thing,  g argon  manque.  .  .  .  You  say  she  is 
cowed ;  I  say  she  is  content  —  content  to  give  me  every- 
thing I  ask  of  her.  .  .  .  For  four  months  she  has  fought 
me.  Why  does  it  give  me  no  pleasure  to  have  broken 
her  at  last?  Why  do  I  want  her  still?  She  is  English 
and  I  have  made  her  pay  for  my  hatred  of  her  cursed 
race.  I  have  tortured  her  to  keep  my  vow,  and  still  I 
want  her.  .  .  .  Diane,  Diane,  how  beautiful  you  are !  .  .  . 
What  devil  makes  me  hate  Raoul  after  twenty  years? 
Last  night  she  only  spoke  to  him,  and  when  he  went  I 
cursed  her  till  I  saw  the  terror  in  her  eyes.  She  fears  me. 
Why  should  I  care  if  she  loves  him.  ...  I  knew  she  was 
not  asleep  when  I  went  to  her.  I  felt  her  quivering  beside 
me.  ...  I  wanted  to  kill  Raoul  when  he  would  not  come 
with  me,  but  for  that  I  would  have  gone  back  to  her.  .  .  . 
Allah !  how  long  the  day  has  been.  .  .  .  Has  it  been  long 
to  her?   Will  she  smile  or  tremble  when  I  come?  .  .  . 


THE  SHEIK 


Where  is  Diane?  .  .  .  Diane,  Diane,  how  could  I  know 
how  much  you  meant  to  me?  How  could  I  know  that  1 
should  love  you?  .  .  .  Diane,  Diane,  my  sunshine.  The 
tent  is  cold  and  dark  without  you.  .  .  .  Ibraheim  Omair ! 
That  devil  and  Diane!  Oh,  Allah!  Grant  me  time 
to  get  to  her.  .  .  .  How  the  jackals  are  howling.  .  .  . 
See,  Raoul,  there  are  the  tents.  .  .  .  Diane,  where  are 
you  ?  .  .  .  Grand  Dieu !  He  has  been  torturing  her ! . . . 
You  knew  that  I  would  come,  ma  bien  aimee,  only  a  few 
moments  while  I  kill  him,  then  I  can  hold  you  in  my 
arms.  Dieu!  If  you  knew  how  much  I  loved  you.  .  .  . 
Diane,  Diane,  it  is  all  black.  I  cannot  see  you,  Diane, 
Diane.  .  . 

.  And  hour  after  hour  with  weary  hopelessness  the  tired 
voice  went  on  — "  Diane,  Diane  .  . 


CHAPTER  IX 

It  was  evening  when  Diana  opened  drowsy  and  heavy 
eyes,  a  bitter  taste  in  her  mouth  from  the  effects  of  the 
drug  that  Saint  Hubert  had  given  her.  Everything  had 
been  laid  out  in  readiness  for  her  waking  with  the  little 
touches  that  were  characteristic  of  Zilah's  handiwork,  but 
the  Arab  girl  herself  was  not  visible.  The  lamp  was 
lighted,  and  Diana  turned  her  head  languidly,  still  half 
confused,  to  look  at  the  clock  beside  her.  The  tiny  chime 
sounded  seven  times,  and  with  a  rush  of  recollection  she 
leaped  up.  More  than  twelve  hours  since  she  had  knelt 
beside  him  after  drinking  the  coffee  that  Raoul  had  given 
her.  She  guessed  what  he  had  done  and  tried  to  be  grate- 
ful, but  the  thought  of  what  might  have  happened  during 
the  twelve  hours  she  had  lain  like  a  log  was  horrible. 
She  dressed  with  feverish  haste  and  went  into  the  outer 
room.  It  was  filled  with  Arabs,  many  of  whom  she  did 
not  recognise,  and  she  knew  that  they  must  belong  to  the 
reinforcements  that  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had  sent  for. 
Two,  who  seemed  from  their  appearance  to  be  petty 
chiefs,  were  talking  in  low  tones  to  Saint  Hubert,  who 
looked  worn  and  tired.  The  rest  were  grouped  silently 
about  the  divan,  looking  at  the  still-unconscious  Sheik. 
The  restlessness  and  delirium  of  the  morning  had  passed 
and  been  succeeded  by  a  death-like  stupor.  Nearest  to 
him  stood  Yusef,  his  usual  swaggering  self-assurance 
241 


242 


THE  SHEIK 


changed  into  an  attitude  of  deepest  dejection,  and  his  eyes, 
that  were  fixed  on  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's  face,  were  like 
those  of  a  whipped  dog. 

Gradually  the  tent  emptied  until  only  Yusef  was  left, 
and  at  last,  reluctantly,  he  too  went,  stopping  at  the  en- 
trance to  speak  to  Saint  Hubert,  who  had  just  taken 
leave  of  the  two  headmen. 

The  Vicomte  came  back,  bringing  a  chair  for  Diana, 
and  put  her  into  it  with  gentle  masterfulness.  "  Sit 
down,"  he  said  almost  gruffly.    "  You  look  like  a  ghost." 

She  looked  up  at  him  reproachfully.  "  You  drugged 
that  coffee,  Raoul.  If  he  had  died  to-day  while  I  was 
asleep  I  don't  think  I  could  ever  have  forgiven  you." 

"  My  dear  child,"  he  said  gravely.  "  you  don't  know 
how  near  you  were  to  collapse.  If  I  had  not  made  you 
sleep  I  should  have  had  three  patients  on  my  hands  in- 
stead of  two." 

"  I  am  very  ungrateful,"  she  murmured,  with  a  trem- 
ulous little  smile. 

Saint  Hubert  brought  a  chair  for  himself  and  dropped 
into  it  wearily.  He  felt  very  tired,  the  strain  of  the  past 
twenty-four  hours  had  been  tremendous.  He  had  a  very 
real  fear  that  was  fast  growing  into  a  conviction  that 
his  skill  was  going  to  prove  unequal  to  save  his  friend's 
life,  and  beside  that  anxiety  and  his  physical  fatigue  he 
had  fought  a  bitter  fight  with  himself  all  day,  tearing  out 
of  his  heart  the  envy  and  jealousy  that  filled  it,  and 
locking  away  his  love  as  a  secret  treasure  to  be  hidden 
for  always.  His  devotion  to  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had 
survived  the  greatest  test  that  could  be  imposed  upon  it, 
and  had  emerged  from  the  trial  strengthened  and  refined, 
with  every  trace  of  self  obliterated.    It  had  been  the 


THE  SHEIK 


243 


hardest  struggle  of  his  life,  but  it  was  over  now,  and  all 
the  bitterness  had  passed,  leaving  only  a  passionate  desire 
for  Diana's  happiness  that  outweighed  every  other 
\  thought.  One  spark  of  comfort  remained.  He  would 
not  be  quite  useless.  His  help  and  sympathy  would  be 
necessary  to  her,  and  even  for  that  he  was  grateful. 

He  looked  across  the  divan  at  her,  and  the  change 
that  the  last  few  hours  had  made  in  her  struck  him  pain- 
fully. The  alert,  vigorous  boyishness  that  had  been  so 
characteristic  was  gone.  Her  slim  figure  drooping  list- 
lessly in  the  big  chair,  her  white  face  with  the  new  marks 
of  suffering  on  it,  and  her  wide  eyes  burning  with  dumb 
misery,  were  all  purely  womanly.  And  yet  though  he 
resented  the  change  he  wished  it  could  have  gone  further. 
The  restraint  she  was  putting  on  herself  was  unnatural. 
She  asked  no  questions  and  she  shed  no  tears.  He  could 
have  borne  them  both  easier  than  the  silent  anguish  of 
her  face.  He  feared  the  results  of  the  emotion  she  was 
repressing  so  rigidly. 

There  was  a  long  silence. 

Henri  came  in  once  and  Diana  roused  herself  to  ask 
for  Gaston,  and  then  relapsed  into  silent  watchfulness 
again.  She  sighed  once,  a  long  quivering  sigh  that  nearly 
broke  Saint  Hubert's  heart.  He  rose  and  bent  over  the 
Sheik  with  his  fingers  on  his  wrist,  and  as  he  laid  the 
nerveless  hand  down  again  she  leaned  nearer  and  covered 
it  with  her  own. 

"  His  hand  is  so  big  for  an  Arab's,"  she  said  softly, 
like  a  thought  spoken  aloud  unconsciously. 

"  He  is  not  an  Arab,"  replied  Saint  Hubert  with  sudden, 
impatient  vehemence.    "  He  is  English." 

Diana  looked  up  at  him  swiftly  with  utter  bewilder- 


244 


THE  SHEIK 


ment  in  her  startled  eyes.  ss  I  don't  understand,"  she 
faltered.    "  He  hates  the  English." 

"  Quand-meme,  he  is  the  son  of  one  of  your  English 
peers.  His  mother  was  a  Spanish  lady ;  many  of  the  old 
noble  Spanish  families  have  Moorish  blood  in  their  veins, 
the  characteristics  crop  up  even  after  centuries.  It  is  so 
with  Ahmed,  and  his  life  in  the  desert  has  accentuated  it. 
Has  he  never  told  you  anything  about  himself  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Sometimes  I  have  won- 
dered  "  she  said  reflectively.    "  He  seemed  different 

from  the  others,  and  there  has  been  so  much  that  I  could 
never  understand.  But  then  again  there  were  times  when 
he  seemed  pure  Arab,"  she  added  in  a  lower  voice  and 
with  an  involuntary  shiver. 

"  You  ought  to  know,"  said  Saint  Hubert.  "  Yes  !  " 
he  went  on  firmly,  as  she  tried  to  interrupt  him.  "  It  is 
due  to  you.  It  will  explain  so  many  things.  I  will  take 
the  responsibility.    His  father  is  the  Earl  of  Glencaryll." 

"  But  I  know  him,"  said  Diana  wonderingly.  "  He 
was  a  friend  of  my  father.  I  saw  him  only  a  few  months 
ago  when  Aubrey  and  I  passed  through  Paris.  He  is 
such  a  magnificent-looking  old  man,  so  fierce  and  sad. 
Oh,  now  I  know  why  that  awful  frown  of  Ahmed's  has 
always  seemed  so  familiar.  Lord  Glencaryll  frowns  like 
that.  It  is  the  famous  Caryll  scowl.  But  I  still  don't 
understand."  She  looked  from  Saint  Hubert  to  the  un- 
conscious man  on  the  divan  and  back  to  Saint  Hubert 
with  a  new  trouble  growing  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  had  better  tell  you  the  whole  story,"  said  Raoul, 
dropping  back  into  his  chair. 

"  Thirty-six  years  ago  my  father,  who  was  as  great  a 
wanderer  as  I  am,  was  staying  here  in  the  desert  with  his 


THE  SHEIK 


245 


friend  the  Sheik  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan.  A  chance  ac- 
quaintance some  years  before  over  the  purchase  of  some 
horses  had  ripened  into  a  very  intimate  friendship  that 
was  unusual  between  a  Frenchman  and  an  Arab.  The 
Sheik  was  a  wonderful  man,  very  enlightened,  with  strong 
Efuropean  tendencies.  As  a  mi  iter  of  pure  fact  he  was 
not  too  much  in  sympathy  with  the  French  form  of  ad- 
ministration as  carried  on  in  Algeria,  but  he  was  not 
affected  sufficiently  by  it  to  make  any  real  difficulty.  The 
territory  that  he  regarded  as  his  own  lay  too  much  to  the 
south,  and  he  kept  his  large  and  scattered  tribe  in  too 
good  order  for  any  interference  to  be  possible.  He  was 
unmarried,  and  the  women  of  his  own  race  seemed  to 
have  no  attraction  for  him.  He  was  wrapped  up  in  his 
tribe  and  his  horses.  My  father  had  come  for  a  stay  of 
some  months.  My  mother  had  recently  died  and  he 
wanted  to  get  away  from  everything  that  reminded  him 
of  her.  One  evening,  shortly  after  his  arrival  at  the 
camp,  a  party  of  the  Sheik's  men  who  had  been  absent 
for  some  days  in  the  north  on  the  chief's  affairs  arrived, 
bringing  with  them  a  woman  whom  they  had  found 
wandering  in  the  desert.  How  she  had  got  there,  or  from 
what  direction  she  had  come,  they  did  not  know.  They 
were  nearer  civilisation  than  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's  camp 
at  the  time,  but  with  true  native  tendency  to  avoid  re- 
sponsibility they  thought  that  the  disposal  of  her  was  a 
matter  more  for  their  Sheik  than  themselves.  She  could 
give  no  account  of  herself,  as,  owing  to  the  effects  of  the 
sun  or  other  causes,  she  was  temporarily  out  of  her  mind. 
Arabs  are  very  gentle  with  any  one  who  is  mad  — 
'  Allah  has  touched  them ! '  She  was  taken  to  the  tent 
of  one  of  the  headmen,  whose  wife  looked  after  her.  For 


246 


THE  SHEIK 


some  days  it  was  doubtful  whether  she  would  recover, 
and  her  condition  was  aggravated  by  the  fact  that  she 
was  shortly  to  become  a  mother.  She  did  regain  her 
senses  after  a  time,  however,  but  nothing  could  make  her 
say  anything  about  herself,  and  questions  reduced  her  to 
terrible  fits  of  hysterical  crying  which  were  prejudicial  in 
her  state  of  health.  She  seemed  calmest  when  she  was 
left  quite  alone,  but  even  then  she  started  at  the  slightest 
sound,  and  the  headman's  wife  reported  that  she  would 
lie  for  hours  on  her  bed  crying  quietly  to  herself.  She 
was  quite  young  —  seemingly  not  more  than  nineteen  or 
twenty.  From  her  accents  my  father  decided  that  she 
was  Spanish,  but  she  would  admit  nothing,  not  even  her 
nationality.  In  due  course  of  time  the  child  was  born,  a 
boy." 

Saint  Hubert  paused  a  moment  and  nodded  towards 
the  Sheik.  "  Even  after  the  child's  birth  she  refused  to 
give  any  account  of  herself.  In  that  she  was  as  firm  as 
a  rock;  in  everything  else  she  was  the  frailest,  gentlest 
little  creature  imaginable.  She  was  very  small  and  slen- 
der, with  quantities  of  soft  dark  hair  and  beautiful  great 
dark  eyes  that  looked  like  a  frightened  fawn's.  I  have 
heard  my  father  describe  her  many  times,  and  I  have  seen 
the  water-colour  sketch  he  made  of  her  —  he  was  quite 
an  amateur.  Ahmed  has  it  locked  away  somewhere. 
She  nearly  died  when  the  baby  was  born,  and  she  never 
recovered  her  strength.  She  made  no  complaint  and 
never  spoke  of  herself,  and  seemed  quite  content  as  long 
as  the  child  was  with  her.  She  was  a  child  herself  in  a 
great  number  of  ways.  It  never  seemed  to  occur  to  her 
that  there  was  anything  odd  in  her  continued  residence  in 
the  Sheik's  camp-    She  had  a  tent  and  servants  of  her 


THE  SHEIK 


247 


own,  and  the  headman's  wife  was  devoted  to  her.  So 
were  the  rest  of  the  camp  for  that  matter.  There  was  an 
element  of  the  mysterious  in  her  advent  that  had  taken 
ho.<d  of  the  superstitious  Arabs,  and  the  baby  was  looked 
upon  as  something  more  than  human  and  was  adored  by 
all  the  tribe.  The  Sheik  himself,  who  had  never  looked 
twice  at  a  woman  before  in  his  life,  became  passionately 
attached  to  her.  My  father  says  that  he  has  never  seen 
a  man  so  madly  in  love  as  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  was  with 
the  strange  white  girl  who  had  come  so  oddly  into  his 
life.  He  repeatedly  implored  her  to  marry  him,  and 
even  my  father,  who  has  a  horror  of  mixed  marriages, 
was  impelled  to  admit  that  any  woman  might  have  been 
happy  with  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan.  She  would  not  consent, 
though  she  would  give  no  reason  for  her  refusal,  and  the 
mystery  that  surrounded  her  remained  as  insolvable  dur- 
ing the  two  years  that  she  lived  after  the  baby's  birth  as 
it  had  been  on  the  day  of  her  arrival.  And  her  refusal 
made  no  difference  with  the  Sheik.  His  devotion  was 
wonderful.  When  she  died  my  father  was  again  visiting 
the  camp.  She  knew  that  she  was  dying,  and  a  few  days 
before  the  end  she  told  them  her  pitiful  little  history. 
She  was  the  only  daughter  of  one  of  the  oldest  noble 
houses  in  Spain,  as  poor  as  they  were  noble,  and  she  had 
been  married  when  she  was  seventeen  to  Lprd  Glencaryll, 
who  had  seen  her  with  her  parents  in  Nice.  She  had 
been  married  without  any  regard  to  her  own  wishes,  and 
though  she  grew  to  love  her  husband  she  was  always 
afraid  of  him.  He  had  a  terrible  temper  that  was  very 
easily  roused,  and,  in  those  days,  he  also  periodically 
drank  a  great  deal  more  than  was  good  for  him,  and  when 
under  the  influence  of  drink  behaved  more  like  a  devil 


248 


THE  SHEIK 


than  a  man.  She  was  very  young  and  gauche,  failing 
often  to  do  what  was  required  of  her  from  mere  nervous- 
ness. He  was  exigent  and  made  no  allowance  for  her 
youth  and  inexperience,  and  her  life  was  one  long  torture. 
And  yet  in  spite  of  it  all  she  loved  him.  Even  in  speak- 
ing of  it  she  insisted  that  the  fault  was  hers,  that  the 
trouble  was  due  to  her  stupidity,  glossing  over  his  brutal- 
ity; in  fact,  it  was  not  from  her,  but  from  inquiries  that 
he  made  after  her  death,  that  my  father  learned  most  of 
what  her  life  had  been.  It  seems  that  Lord  Glencaryll 
had  taken  her  to  Algiers  and  had  wished  to  make  a  trip 
into  the  desert.  He  had  been  drinking  heavily,  and  she 
did  not  dare  to  upset  his  plans  by  refusing  to  go  with  him 
or  even  by  telling  him  how  soon  her  child  was  going  to 
be  born.  So  she  went  with  him,  and  one  night  something 
happened  —  what  she  would  not  say,  but  my  father  says 
he  has  never  seen  such  a  look  of  terror  on  any  woman's 
face  as  she  hurried  over  that  part  of  her  story.  What- 
ever it  was  she  waited  until  the  camp  was  asleep  and  then 
slipped  out  into  the  desert,  mad  with  fear,  with  no  thought 
beyond  a  blind  instinct  of  flight  that  drove  her  panic- 
stricken  to  face  any  danger  rather  than  remain  and  under- 
go the  misery  she  was  flying  from.  She  remembered 
hurrying  onward,  terrified  by  every  sound  and  every 
shadow,  frightened  even  by  the  blazing  stars  that  seemed 
to  be  watching  her  and  pointing  out  the  way  she  had 
taken,  until  her  mind  was  numb  from  utter  weariness 
and  she  remembered  nothing  more  until  she  awoke  in  the 
headman's  tent.  She  had  been  afraid  to  say  who  she 
was  lest  she  should  be  sent  back  to  her  husband.  And 
with  the  birth  of  the  child  she  became  more  than  ever 
determined  to  preserve  her  secret.    The  boy  should  be 


THE  SHEIK 


spared  the  suffering  she  had  herself  endured,  he  should 
not  be  allowed  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  his  father  to  be 
at  his  mercy  when  the  periodical  drinking  fits  made  him 
a  very  fiend  of  cruelty.  She  made  my  father  and  the 
Sheik  swear  that  not  until  the  boy  grew  to  manhood 
should  Lord  Glencaryll  be  told  of  his  existence.  She 
wrote  a  letter  for  her  husband  which  she  gave  into  my 
father's  keeping,  together  with  her  wedding  ring,  which 
had  an  inscription  inside  of  it,  and  a  miniature  of  Glen- 
caryll which  she  had  worn  always  hidden  away  from 
sight.  She  was  very  contrite  with  the  Sheik,  begging  his 
forgiveness  for  the  sorrow  she  had  caused  him  and  for 
keeping  from  his  knowledge  the  fact  that  she  was  not 
free.  She  loved  her  husband  loyally  to  the  end,  but  the 
last  few  days  that  she  lived  the  Sheik's  devotion  seemed 
to  wake  an  answering  tenderness  in  her  heart.  She  was 
happiest  when  he  was  with  her,  and  she  died  in  his  arms 
with  his  kisses  on  her  lips.  She  left  her  boy  in  his 
keeping,  and  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  adopted  him  formally 
and  made  him  his  heir,  giving  him  his  own  name  — the 
hereditary  name  that  the  Sheik  of  the  tribe  has  borne  for 
generations.  His  word  was  law  amongst  his  people,  and 
there  was  no  thought  of  any  opposition  to  his  wishes; 
further,  the  child  was  considered  lucky,  and  his  choice  of 
successor  was  received  with  unanimous  delight.  All  the 
passionate  love  that  the  Sheik  had  for  the  mother  was 
transferred  to  the  son.  He  idolised  him,  and  the  boy  grew 
up  believing  that  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  was  ,his  own 
father.  With  the  traits  he  had  inherited  from  his 
mother's  people  and  with  his  desert  upbringing  he  looked, 
as  he  does  now,  pure  Arab.  When  he  was  fifteen  my 
father  induced  the  Sheik  to  send  him  to  Paris  to  be  edu* 


THE  SHEIK 


cated.  With  his  own  European  tendencies  the  Sheik  had 
wished  it  also,  but  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  part 
with  the  boy  before,  and  it  was  a  tremendous  wrench  to 
let  him  go  when  he  did.  It  was  then  that  I  first  saw 
him.  I  was  eighteen  at  the  time,  and  had  just  begun  my 
military  training,  but  as  my  regiment  was  stationed  in 
Paris  I  was  able  to  be  at  home  a  good  deal.  He  was  such 
a  handsome,  high-spirited  lad.  Men  mature  very  young 
in  the  desert  and  in  many  ways  he  was  a  great  deal 
older  than  I  was,  in  spite  of  my  three  years'  seniority. 
But,  of  course,  in  other  ways  he  was  a  perfect  child.  He 
had  a  fiendish  temper  and  resented  any  check  on  his 
natural  lawless  inclinations.  He  loathed  the  restrictions 
that  had  to  be  put  upon  him  and  he  hated  the  restraint  of 
town  life.  He  had  been  accustomed  to  having  his  own 
way  in  nearly  everything,  and  to  the  constant  adulation 
of  the  tribesmen,  and  he  was  not  prepared  to  give  to  any- 
body else  the  obedience  that  he  gave  willingly  to  the 
Sheik.  There  were  some  very  stormy  times,  and  I  never 
admired  my  father  in  anything  so  much  as  his  handling  of 
that  young  savage.  His  escapades  were  nerve-racking 
and  his  beaux  yeux  led  him  into  endless  scrapes.  The 
only  threat  that  reduced  him  to  order  was  that  of  send- 
ing him  home  to  the  Sheik  in  disgrace-.  He  would  prom- 
ise amendment  and  take  himself  off  to  the  Bois  to  work 
off  his  superfluous  energy  on  my  father's  horses  —  until 
he  broke  out  again.  But  in  spite  of  his  temper  and  his 
diableries  he  was  very  lovable  and  everybody  liked  him. 

"  After  a  year  with  us  in  Paris  my  father,  always 
mindful  of  his  real  nationality,  sent  him  for  two  years 
to  a  tutor  in  England,  where  I  had  myself  been.  The 
tutor  was  an  exceptional  man,  used  to  dealing  with  ex- 


THE  SHEIK 


251 


ceptional  boys,  and  Ahmed  did  very  well  with  him.  1 
don^T  mean  that  he  did  much  work  —  that  he  evaded 
skilfully  and  spent  most  of  his  time  hunting  and  shooting. 
The  only  thing  that  he  studied  at  all  seriously  was  veteri- 
nary surgery,  which  he  knew  would  be  useful  to  him 
with  his  own  horses,  and  in  which  his  tutor  was  level- 
headed enough  to  encourage  him.  Then  at  the  end  of 
two  years  he  came  back  to  us  for  another  year.  He  had 
gone  to  the  desert  every  summer  for  his  holidays,  and  on 
each  occasion  the  Sheik  let  him  return  with  greater  re- 
luctance. He  was  always  afraid  that  the  call  of  civilisa- 
tion would  be  too  much  for  his  adopted  son,  especially 
as  he  grew  older,  but  although  Ahmed  had  changed  very 
much  from  the  wild  desert  lad  who  had  first  come  to  us, 
and  had  developed  into  a  polished  man  of  the  world, 
speaking  Trench  and  English  as  fluently  as  Arabic,  with 
plenty  of  means  to  amuse  himself  in  any  way  that  he 
wished  —  for  the  Sheik  was  very  rich  and  kept  him 
lavishly  supplied  with  money  —  and  though  in  that  last 
year  he  was  with  us  he  was  courted  and  feted  in  a  way 
that  would  have  turned  most  people's  heads,  he  was  al- 
ways secretly  longing  for  the  time  when  he  would  go 
back  to  the  desert.  It  was  the  desert,  not  civilisation  that 
called  loudest  to  him.  He  loved  the  life  and  he  adored 
the  man  whom  he  thought  was  his  father.  To  be  the 
son  and  heir  of  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  seemed  to  him  to  be 
the  highest  pinnacle  that  any  man's  ambition  could  reach. 
He  was  perfectly  indifferent  to  the  flattery  and  attention 
that  his  money  and  his  good  looks  brought  him.  My 
father  entertained  very  largely  and  Ahmed  became  the 
fashion  — 1  Le  bel  Araber'  he  was  called,  and  he  enjoyed  a 
succes  fou  which  bored  him  to  extinction  —  and  at  the 


252 


THE  SHEIK 


end  of  the  year,  having  written  to  the  Sheik  for  permis- 
sion to  go  home,  he  shook  the  dust  of  Paris  off  his  feet 
and  went  back  to  the  desert.  I  went  with  him.  It  was 
my  first  visit  and  the  first  time  that  I  had  experienced 
Ahmed  en  prince.  I  had  never  seen  him  in  anything  but- 
European  clothes,  and  I  got  quite  a  shock  when  I  came 
up  on  deck  the  morning  that  we  arrived  at  Oran  and 
found  an  Arab  of  the  Arabs  waiting  for  me.  The  robes 
and  a  complete  change  of  carriage  and  expression  that 
seemed  to  go  with  them  altered  him  curiously  and  I 
hardly  recognised  him.  Some  of  his  men  were  waiting 
for  him  on  the  quay  and  their  excitement  was  extraordi- 
nary. I  realised  from  the  deference  and  attention  that 
the  French  officials  paid  to  Ahmed  the  position  that  the 
old  Sheik  had  made  for  himself  and  the  high  esteem  in 
which  he  was  held.  We  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  in 
arranging  for  the  considerable  baggage  that  he  had 
brought  with  him  to  be  forwarded  by  the  camel  caravan 
that  had  been  sent  for  the  purpose,  and  also  in  business 
for  the  Sheik  in  Oran.  We  spent  the  night  in  a  villa  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  town  belonging  to  an  old  Arab  who 
entertained  us  lavishly,  and  who  spent  the  evening  con- 
gratulating Ahmed  heartily  on  having  escaped  from  the 
clutches  of  the  odious  French,  by  no  means  abashed  when 
Ahmed  pointed  out  that  there  was  an  odious  Frenchman 
present,  for  he  dismissed  me  with  a  gesture  that  conveyed 
that  my  nationality  was  my  misfortune  and  not  my  fault, 
and  in  impressing  on  him  the  necessity  of  immediately 
acquiring  a  wife  or  two  and  settling  down  for  the  good 
of  the  tribe  —  all  this  in  the  intervals  of  drinking  coffee, 
listening  to  the  most  monotonous  native  music  and  watch- 
ing barbaric  dances.    There  was  one  particularly  well- 


THE  SHEIK  253 

made  dancing  girl  that  the  old  man  tried  to  induce  Ahmed 
to  buy,  and  he  made  a  show  of  bargaining  for  her  —  not 
from  any  real  interest  he  took  in  her,  but  merely  to  see 
the  effect  that  it  would  have  on  me.  But  I  refused  to  be 
drawn,  and  as  my  head  was  reeling  with  the  atmosphere 
I  escaped  to  bed  and  left  him  still  bargaining.  We 
started  early  next  morning,  and  were  joined  a  few  miles 
out  of  the  town  by  a  big  detachment  of  followers.  The 
excitement  of  the  day  before  was  repeated  on  a  very 
much  larger  scale.  It  was  a  novel  experience  for  me, 
and  I  can  hardly  describe  my  feelings  in  the  midst  of 
that  yelling  horde  of  men,  galloping  wildly  round  us  and 
firing  their  rifles  until  it  seemed  hardly  possible  that  some 
accident  would  not  happen.  It  was  Ahmed's  attitude  that 
impressed  me  most.  He  took  it  all  quietly  as  his  due, 
and  when  he  had  had  enough  of  it  stopped  it  with  a  per- 
emptory authority  that  was  instantly  obeyed,  and  apol- 
ogised for  the  exuberant  behaviour  of  his  children.  It 
was  a  new  Ahmed  to  me ;  the  boy  I  had  known  for  four 
years  seemed  suddenly  transformed  into  a  man  who  made 
me  feel  very  young.  In  France  I  had  naturally  always 
rather  played  elder  brother,  but  here  Ahmed  was  on  his 
own  ground  and  the  roles  seemed  likely  to  be  reversed. 
The  arrival  at  the  Sheik's  camp  was  everything  that  the 
most  lavish  scenic  producer  could  have  wished.  Though 
I  had  heard  of  it  both  from  my  father  and  Ahmed  I  was 
not  quite  prepared  for  the  splendour  with  which  the 
Sheik  surrounded  himself.  With  Eastern  luxury  was 
mingled  many  European  adjuncts  that  added  much  to 
the  comfort  of  camp  life.  The  meeting  between  the 
Sheik  and  Ahmed  was  most  touching.  I  had  a  very  happy 
time  and  left  with  regret.    The  charm  of  the  desert  took 


254 


THE  SHEIK 


hold  of  me  then  and  has  never  left  me  since.  But  I  had 
to  return  to  my  medical  studies.  I  left  Ahmed  absorbed 
in  his  life  and  happier  than  I  had  ever  seen  him  in  Paris. 
He  was  nineteen  then,  and  when  he  was  twenty-one  my 
father  had  the  unpleasant  task  of  carrying  out  Lady 
Glencaryirs  dying  wishes.  He  wrote  to  Lord  Glencaryll 
asking  him  to  come  to  Paris  on  business  connected  with 
his  late  wife,  and,  during  the  course  of  a  very  painful 
interview,  put  the  whole  facts  before  him.  With  the 
letter  that  the  poor  girl  had  written  to  her  husband,  with 
the  wedding-ring  and  the  locket,  together  with  the  sketch 
that  my  father  had  made  of  her,  the  proofs  of  the  genuine- 
ness of  the  whole  affair  were  conclusive.  Glencaryll 
broke  down  completely.  He  admitted  that  his  wife  had 
every  justification  for  leaving  him,  he  spared  himself 
nothing.  He  referred  quite  frankly  to  the  curse  of  which 
he  had  been  the  slave  and  which  had  made  him  irresponsi- 
ble for  his  actions  when  he  was  under  its  influence.  He 
had  never  known  himself  what  had  happened  that  terrible 
night,  but  the  tragedy  of  his  wife's  disappearance  had 
cured  him.  He  had  made  every  effort  to  find  her  and  it 
was  many  years  before  he  gave  up  all  hope.  He  mourned 
her  bitterly,  and  worshipped  her  memory.  It  was  im- 
possible not  to  pity  him,  for  he  had  expiated  his  fault 
with  agony  that  few  men  can  have  experienced.  The 
thought  that  he  had  a  son  and  that  son  her  child  almost 
overwhelmed  him.  He  had  ardently  desired  an  heir,  and, 
thinking  himself  childless,  the  fact  that  his  title  and  his 
old  name,  of  which  he  was  very  proud,  would  die  with 
him  had  been  a  great  grief.  His  happiness  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  Ahmed's  existence  was  pathetic,  he  was  con- 
sumed with  impatience  for  his  son's  arrival.  Nothing 


THE  SHEIK  255 

had  been  said  to  Ahmed  in  case  Lord  Glencaryll  should 
prove  difficult  to  convince  and  thereby  complicate  mat- 
tersjjnit  his  ready  acceptance  of  the  affair  and  his  eager- 
ness to  see  his  son  made  further  delay  unnecessary,  and 
my  father  sent  for  Ahmed.  The  old  Sheik  let  him  go  in 
ignorance  of  what  was  coming.  He  had  always  dreaded 
the  time  when  his  adopted  son  would  have  to  be  told  of  his 
real  parentage,  fearful  of  losing  him,  jealous  of  sharing 
his  affection  and  resenting  anybody's  claim  to  him  over 
his  own.  And  so,  with  the  only  instance  he  ever  gave  of 
want  of  moral  courage,  he  sent  Ahmed  to  Paris  with  no 
explanation,  and  left  to  my  father  the  task  of  breaking  to 
him  the  news.  I  shall  never  forget  that  day.  It  had 
been  arranged  that  Ahmed  should  be  told  first  and  that 
afterwards  father  and  son  should  meet.  Ahmed  arrived 
in  the  morning  in  time  for  dejeuner,  and  afterwards  we 
went  to  my  father's  study,  and  there  he  told  him  the 
whole  story  as  gently  and  as  carefully  as  he  could. 
Ahmed  was  standing  by  the  window.  He  never  said  a 
word  the  whole  time  my  father  was  speaking,  and  when 
he  finished  he  stood  quite  still  for  a  few  moments,  his 
face  almost  grey  under  the  deep  tan,  his  eyes  fixed  pas- 
sionately on  my  father's  —  and  then  his  fiendish  temper 
broke  out  suddenly.  It  was  a  terrible  scene.  He  cursed 
his  father  in  a  steady  stream  of  mingled  Arabic  and 
French  blasphemy  that  made  one's  blood  run  cold.  He 
cursed  all  English  people  impartially.  He  cursed  my 
father  because  he  had  dared  to  send  him  to  England.  He 
cursed  me  because  I  had  been  a  party  to  the  affair.  The 
only  person  whom  he  spared  was  the  Sheik ;  who  after  all 
was  as  much  implicated  as  we  were,  but  he  never  once 
mentioned  him.    He  refused  to  see  his  father,  refused  to 


256 


THE  SHEIK 


recognise  that  he  was  his  father,  and  he  left  the  house 
that  afternoon  and  Paris  that  night,  going  straight  back  to 
the  desert,  taking  with  him  Gaston,  who  had  arranged 
some  time  before  to  enter  his  service  as  soon  as  his  time 
in  the  cavalry  was  up.  A  letter  that  Lord  Glencaryll 
wrote  to  him,  addressed  to  Viscount  Caryll,  which  is,  of 
course,  his  courtesy  title,  begging  for  at  least  an  inter- 
view, and  which  he  gave  to  us  to  forward,  was  returned 
unopened,  and  scrawled  across  the  envelope :  '  Inconnu. 
Ahmed  Ben  Hassan/  And  since  that  day  his  hatred  of 
the  English  had  been  a  monomania,  and  he  has  never 
spoken  a  word  of  English.  Later  on,  when  we  used  to 
travel  together,  his  obvious  avoidance  of  English  people 
was  at  times  both  awkward  and  embarrassing,  and  I  have 
often  had  to  go  through  the  farce  of  translating  into 
French  or  Arabic  remarks  made  to  him  by  English  fellow- 
travellers,  that  is,  wjhen  he  condescended  to  notice  the 
remarks,  which  was  not  often.  From  the  day  he  learned 
the  truth  about  himself  for  two  years  we  saw  nothing  of 
him.  Then  the  old  Sheik  asked  us  to  visit  him.  We  went 
with  some  misgivings  as  to  what  Ahmed's  reception  of 
us  would  be,  but  he  met  us  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
He  ignored  the  whole  episode  and  has  never  referred  to 
it.  It  is  a  closed  incident.  The  Sheik  warned  us  that 
Ahmed  had  told  him  that  any  reference  to  it  would  mean 
trie  breaking  off  of  all  relations  with  us.  But  Ahmed 
himself  had  changed  indescribably.  All  the  lovable  qual- 
ities that  had  made  him  so  popular  in  Paris  were  gone, 
and  he  had  become  the  cruel,  merciless  man  he  has  been 
ever  since.  The  only  love  left  in  him  was  given  to  his 
adooted  father,  whom  he  worshipped.  Later  I  was  al- 
lowed back  on  the  old  footing,  and  he  has  always  been 


THE  SHEIK 


257 


good  to  Gaston,  but  with  those  three  exceptions  he  has 
spared  nobody  and  nothing.  He  is  my  friend,  I  love  him, 
and  I  am  not  telling  you  more  than  you  know  already." 

Saint  Hubert  broke  off  and  looked  anxiously  at  Diana, 
but  she  did  not  move  or  meet  his  gaze.  She  was  sitting 
with  her  hand  still  clasped  over  the  Sheik's  and  the  other 
one  shading  her  face,  and  the  Vicomte  went  on  speaking : 
"  It  is  so  easy  to  judge,  so  difficult  to  understand  another 
person's  temptations.  Ahmed's  position  has  always  been 
a  curious  one.  He  has  had  unique  temptations  with 
always  the  means  of  gratifying  them." 

There  was  a  longer  pause,  but  still  Diana  did  not  move 
or  speak. 

%i  The  curse  of  Ishmael  had  taken  hold  of  me  by  then 
and  I  wandered  continually.  Sometimes  Ahmed  came 
with  me;  we  have  shot  big  game  together  in  most  parts 
of  the  globe.  A  few  times  he  stayed  with  us  in  Paris, 
but  never  for  long ;  he  always  wearied  to  get  back  to  the 
desert.  Five  years  ago  the  old  Sheik  died ;  he  was  an 
exceptionally  strong  man,  and  should  have  lived  for  years 
but  for  an  accident  which  crippled  him  hopelessly  and 
from  which  he  died  a  few  months  afterwards.  Ahmed's 
devotion  during  his  illness  was  wonderful.  He  never 
left  him,  and  since  he  succeeded  to  the  leadership  of  the 
tribe  he  has  lived  continuously  amongst  his  people,  ab- 
sorbed in  them  and  his  horses,  carrying  on  the  traditions 
handed  down  to  him  by  his  predecessor  and  devoting  his 
life  to  the  tribe.  They  are  like  children,  excitable,  pas- 
sionate and  headstrong,  and  he  has  never  dared  to  risk 
leaving  them  alone  too  long,  particularly  with  the  menace 
of  Ibraheim  Omair  always  in  the  background.  He  has 
never  been  able  to  seek  relaxation  further  afield  than 


258 


THE  SHEIK 


Algiers  or  Oran  "    Saint  Hubert  stopped  abruptly, 

cursing  himself  for  a  tactless  fool.  She  could  not  fail  to 
realise  the  significance  of  those  visits  to  the  gay,  vicious 
little  towns.  The  inference  was  obvious.  His  thought- 
less words  would  only  add  to  her  misery.  Her  sensi- 
tive mind  would  shrink  from  the  contamination  they 
implied.  If  Ahmed  was  going  to  die,  she  would  be  deso- 
late enough  without  forcing  on  her  knowledge  the  un- 
worthiness  of  the  man  she  loved.  He  pushed  his  chair 
back  impatiently  and  went  to  the  open  doorway.  He  felt 
that  she  wanted  to  be  alone.  She  watched  him  go,  then 
slipped  to  her  knees  beside  the  couch. 

She  had  realised  the  meaning  of  Raoul's  carelessly 
uttered  words  and  they  had  hurt  her  poignantly,  but  it 
was  no  new  sorrow.  He  had  told  her  himself  months  ago, 
callously,  brutally,  sparing  her  nothing,  extenuating  noth- 
ing. She  pressed  her  cheek  against  the  hand  she  was 
holding.  She  did  not  blame  him,  she  could  only  love  him, 
no  matter  what  his  life  had  been.  It  was  Ahmed  as  he 
was  she  loved,  his  faults,  his  vices  were  as  much  a  part 
of  him  as  his  superb  physique  and  the  alternating  moods 
that  had  been  so  hard  to  meet.  She  had  never  known  him 
otherwise.  He  seemed  to  stand  alone,  outside  the  pre- 
scribed conventions  that  applied  to  ordinary  men.  The 
standards  of  common  usage  did  not  appear  compatible 
with  the  wild  desert  man  who  was  his  own  law  and  fol- 
lowed only  his  own  precedent,  defiant  of  social  essentials 
and  scornful  of  criticism.  The  proud,  fierce  nature  and 
passionate  temper  that  he  had  inherited,  the  position  of 
despotic  leadership  in  which  he  had  been  reared,  the 
adulation  of  his  followers  and  the  savage  life  in  the 
desert,  free  from  all  restraint,  had  combined  to  produce 


THE  SHEIK  259 

the  haughty  unconventionalism  that  would  not  submit  to 
the  ordinary  rules  of  life.  She  could  not  think  of  him  as 
an  Englishman.  The  mere  accident  of  his  parentage  was 
a  factor  that  weighed  nothing.  He  was  and  always  would 
be  an  Arab  of  the  wilderness.  If  he  lived!  He  must 
live !  He  could  not  go  out  like  that,  his  magnificent 
strength  and  fearless  courage  extinguished  by  a  treach- 
erous blow  that  had  not  dared  to  meet  him  face  to  face  — 
in  spite  of  the  overwhelming  numbers  —  but  had  struck 
him  down  from  behind,  a  coward  stroke.  He  must  live, 
even  if  his  life  meant  death  to  her  hopes  of  happiness; 
that  was  nothing  compared  with  his  life.  She  loved  him 
well  enough  to  sacrifice  anything  for  him.  If  he  only 
lived  she  could  bear  even  to  be  put  out  of  his  life.  It 
was  only  he  that  mattered,  his  life  was  everything.  He 
was  so  young,  so  strong,  so  made  to  live.  He  had  so 
much  to  live  for.  He  was  essential  to  his  people.  They 
needed  him.  If  she  could  only  die  for  him.  In  the  days 
when  the  world  was  young  the  gods  were  kind,  they 
listened  to  the  prayers  of  hapless  lovers  and  accepted  the 
life  that  was  offered  in  place  of  the  beloved  whose  life 
was  claimed.  If  God  would  but  listen  to  her  now.  If 
He  would  but  accept  her  life  in  exchange  for  his. 

If  !    If  ! 

Her  fingers  crept  up  lightly  across  his  breast,  fearful 
lest  even  their  tender  touch  should  injure  his  battered 
body,  and  she  looked  long  and  earnestly  at  him.  His 
crisp  brown  hair  was  hidden  by  the  bandages  that,  dead 
white  against  his  tanned  face,  swathed  his  bruised  head. 
His  closed  eyes  with  the  thick  dark  lashes  curling  on  his 
cheek,  hiding  the  usual  fierce  expression  that  gleamed  in 
them,  and  the  relaxation  of  the  hard  lines  of  his  face  made 


260 


THE  SHEIK 


him  look  singularly  young.  That  youthful  look  had  been 
noticeable  often  when  he  was  asleep,  and  she  had  watched 
it  wondering  what  Ahmed  the  boy  had  been  like  before 
he  grew  into  the  merciless  man  at  whose  hands  she  had 
suffered  so  much. 

And  now  the  knowledge  of  his  boyhood  seemed  to 
make  him  even  dearer  than  he  had  been  before.  What 
sort  of  man  would  he  have  been  if  the  little  dark-eyed 
mother  had  lived  to  sway  him  with  her  gentleness  ?  Poor 
little  mother,  helpless  and  fragile!  —  yet  strong  enough 
to  save  her  boy  from  the  danger  that  she  feared  for  him, 
but  paying  the  price  of  that  strength  with  her  life,  content 
that  her  child  was  safe. 

Diana  thought  of  her  own  mother  dying  in  the  arms 
of  a  husband  who  adored  her,  and  then  of  the  little 
Spanish  girl  slipping  away  from  life,  a  stranger  in  a 
strange  land,  her  heart  crying  out  for  the  husband  whom 
she  still  loved,  turning  in  ignorance  of  his  love  for  con- 
solation in  the  agony  of  death  to  the  lover  she  had  denied, 
and  seeking  comfort  in  his  arms.  A  sudden  jealousy  of 
the  two  dead  women  shook  her.  They  had  been  loved. 
Why  could  not  she  be  loved  ?  Wherein  did  she  fail  that 
he  would  not  love  her?  Other  men  had  loved  her,  and 
his  love  was  all  she  longed  for  in  the  world.  To  feel 
his  arms  around  her  only  once  with  love  in  their  touch, 
to  see  his  passionate  eyes  kindle  only  once  with  the  light 
she  prayed  for.  She  drew  a  long  sobbing  breath. 
"  Ahmed,  mon  bel  Ardbe"  she  murmured  yearningly. 

She  rose  to  her  feet.  She  was  afraid  of  breaking  down, 
of  giving  way  to  the  fear  and  anxiety  that  racked  her. 
She  turned  instinctively  to  the  help  and  sympathy  that 
offered  and  went  to  Saint  Hubert,  joining  him  under  the 


THE  SHEIK 


261 


awning.  Usually  at  night  the  vicinity  of  the  Sheik's  tent 
was  avoided  by  the  tribesmen,  even  the  sentry  on  guard 


jwas  posted  at  some  little  distance.  Kopec  curled  up 
outside  the  doorway  kept  ample  watch.  But  to-night  the 
open  space  was  swarming  with  men,  some  squatting  on 
the  ground  in  circles,  others  clustered  together  in  earnest 
conversation,  and  far  of!  through  the  palm  trees  she 
caught  an  occasional  glimpse  of  mounted  men.  Yusef 
and  the  headmen  acting  under  him  were  taking  no  risks, 
there  was  to  be  no  chance  of  a  surprise  attack. 

"  You  must  be  very  tired,  Raoul,"  she  said,  slipping 
her  hand  through  his  arm,  for  her  need  was  almost  as 
much  for  physical  as  mental  support.  The  frank  touch 
of  her  hand  sent  a  quiver  through  him,  but  he  suppressed 
it,  and  laid  his  own  hand  over  her  cold  ringers. 

**  I  must  not  think  of  that  yet  Later  on,  perhaps,  I 
can  rest  a  little.  Henri  can  watch ;  he  is  almost  as  good 
a  doctor  as  I  am,  the  incomparable  Henri!  Ahmed  and 
I  have  always  quarrelled  over  the  respective  merits  of 
our  servants." 

He  felt  her  hand  tighten  on  his  arm  at  the  mention  of 
the  Sheik's  name  and  heard  the  smothered  sigh  that  she 
choked  back.  They  stood  in  silence  for  a  while  watching 
the  shifting  groups  of  tribesmen.  A  little  knot  of  low- 
voiced  men  near  them  opened  up,  and  one  of  their  number 
came  to  Saint  Hubert  with  an  inquiry. 

"  The  men  are  restless,"  Raoul  said  when  the  Arab  had 
gone  back  to  his  fellows  with  all  the  consolation  the 
Vicomte  could  give  him.  "  Their  devotion  is  very  strong. 
Ahmed  is  a  god  to  them.  Their  anxiety  takes  them  in  a 
variety  of  ways.  Yusef,  who  has  been  occupied  with  his 
duties  most  of  the  day,  has  turned  to  religion  for  the  first 


262 


THE  SHEIK 


time  in  his  life,  he  has  gone  to  say  his  prayers  with  the 
pious  Abdul,  as  he  thinks  that  Allah  is  more  likely  to 
listen  if  his  petitions  go  heavenward  in  company  with  the 
holy  man's." 

Diana's  thoughts  strayed  back  to  the  story  that  Saint 
Hubert  had  told  her.  ■ '  Does  Lord  Glencaryll  know  that 
you  see  Ahmed  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh  yes.  He  and  my  father  became  great  friends. 
He  often  stays  with  us  in  Paris.  We  are  a  link  between 
him  and  Ahmed.  He  is  always  hungry  for  any  news  of 
him,  and  still  clings  to  the  hope  that  one  day  he  will 
relent.  He  has  never  made  any  further  effort  to  open 
up  relations  with  him  because  he  knows  it  would  be 
useless.  If  there  is  to  be  any  rapprochement  between 
them  it  must  come  from  Ahmed.  They  have  almost  met 
accidentally  once  or  twice,  and  Glencaryll  has  once  seen 
him.  It  was  at  the  opera.  He  was  staying  in  Paris  for 
some  months  and  had  a  box.  I  had  gone  across  from  our 
own  box  on  the  other  side  of  the  house  to  speak  to  him. 
There  were  several  people  with  him.  I  was  standing 
beside  him,  talking.  Ahmed  had  just  come  into  our  box 
opposite  and  was  standing  right  in  the  front  looking  over 
the  theatre.  Something  had  annoyed  him  and  he  was 
scowling.  The  likeness  was  unmistakable.  Glencaryll 
gave  a  kind  of  groan  and  staggered  back  against  me. 
'  Good  God !  Who  is  that  ? '  he  said,  and  I  don't  think 
he  knew  he  was  speaking  out  loud. 

"  A  man  next  him  looked  in  the  direction  he  was 
looking  and  laughed.  '  That's  the  Saint  Huberts'  wild 
man  of  the  desert.  Looks  fierce,  doesn't  he?  The 
women  call  him  "  le  bel  Arabe."  He  certainly  wears 
European  clothes  with  better  grace  than  most  natives. 


THE  SHEIK 


263 


He  is  said  to  have  a  peculiar  hatred  of  the  English,  so 
you'd  better  give  him  a  wide  berth,  Glencaryll,  if  you 
don't  want  to  be  bow-stringed  or  have  your  throat  cut, 
or  whatever  fancy  form  of  death  the  fellow  cultivates  in 
his  native  habitat.    Raoul  can  tell  you  all  about  him/ 

"  There  was  not  any  need  for  me  to  tell  him.  Fortu- 
nately the  opera  began  and  the  lights  went  down,  and  I 
persuaded  him  to  go  away  before  the  thing  was  over." 

Diana  gave  a  little  shiver.  She  felt  a  great  sympathy 
coming  over  her  for  the  lonely  old  man,  hoping  against 
hope  for  the  impossible,  that  she  had  not  felt  earlier  in 
the  evening.  He,  too,  was  wearing  his  heart  out  against 
the  inflexible  will  cf  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan. 

She  shivered  again  and  turned  back  into  the  tent  with 
Saint  Hubert.  They  halted  by  the  couch  and  stood  for 
a  long  time  in  silence.  Then  Diana  slowly  raised  her 
head  and  looked  up  into  Raoul's  face,  and  he  read  the 
agonised  question  in  her  eyes. 

u  I  don't  know,"  he  said  gently.  *  All  things  are  with 
Allah." 


CHAPTER  X 


The  night  grew  hotter  and  the  atmosphere  more  op- 
pressive. Wrapped  in  a  thin  silk  kimono  Diana  lay  very 
still  on  the  outside  of  the  wide  couch  in  the  inner  room, 
propped  high  with  pillows  that  the  shaded  light  of  the 
little  reading-lamp  beside  her  might  fall  on  the  book  she 
held,  but  she  was  not  reading. 

It  was  Raoul's  latest  book,  that  he  had  brought  with 
him,  but  she  could  not  concentrate  her  mind  on  it, 
and  it  lay  idle  on  her  knee  »while  her  thoughts  were 
far  away.  It  was  three  months  since  the  night  that  Saint 
Hubert  had  almost  given  up  hope  of  being  able  to  save 
the  Sheik's  life  —  a  night  that  had  been  followed  by 
days  of  suspense  that  had  reduced  Diana  to  a  weary-eyed 
shadow  of  her  former  vigorous  self,  and  had  left  marks 
on  Raoul  that  would  never  be  effaced.  But  thanks  to  his 
great  strength  and  splendid  constitution  the  Sheik  had 
rallied  and  after  the  first  few  weeks  convalescence  had 
been  rapid.  When  the  terrible  fear  that  he  might  die 
was  past  it  had  been  a  wonderful  happiness  to  wait  on 
him.  With  the  determination  to  live  for  the  moment, 
to  which  she  had  forced  herself,  she  had  banished  every- 
thing from  her  mind  but  the  joy  of  being  near  him  and 
of  being  necessary  to  him.  It  had  been  a  very  silent 
service,  for  he  would  lie  for  hours  with  closed  eyes  with- 
out speaking,  and  something  that  she  could  not  master 
kept  her  tongue-tied  in  his  presence  when  they  were 
264 


THE  SHEIK 


265 


alone.  Only  once  he  had  referred  to  the  raid.  As  she 
bent  over  him  to  do  some  small  office  his  fingers  closed 
feebly  round  her  wrist  and  his  eyes,  with  a  searching 


tension  in  them,  looked  into  hers  for  the  first  time 


'since  the  night  when  she  had  fled  from  his  curses. 

"  Was  it  —  in  time  ?  "  he  whispered  slowly,  and  as  she 
nodded  with  crimson  cheeks  and  lowered  eyes  he  turned 
his  head  away  without  another  word,  but  a  shudder  that 
he  was  too  weak  to  control  shook  him. 

But  the  happiness  of  ministering  to  him  passed  very 
swiftly.  As  he  grew  stronger  he  managed  so  that  she 
was  rarely  alone  with  him,  and  he  insisted  on  her  riding 
twice  every  day,  sometimes  with  Saint  Hubert,  sometimes 
with  Henri,  coolly  avowing  a  preference  for  his  own 
society  or  that  of  Gaston,  who  was  beginning  to  get  about 
again.  Later,  too,  he  was  much  occupied  with  headmen 
who  came  in  from  the  different  camps,  and  as  the  days 
passed  she  found  herself  more  and  more  excluded  from 
the  intimacy  that  had  been  so  precious.  She  was  thrown 
much  into  the  society  of  Raoul  de  Saint  Hubert.  All  that 
they  had  gone  through  together  had  drawn  them  very 
closely  to  each  other,  and  Diana  often  wondered  what 
her  girlhood  would  have  been  like  if  it  ^ad  been  spent 
under  his  guardianship  instead  of  that  of  Sir  Aubrey 
Mayo.  The  sisterly  affection  she  had  never  given  her 
own  brother  she  gave  to  him,  and,  with  the  firm  hold 
over  himself  that  he  had  never  again  slackened,  the 
Vicomte  accepted  the  role  of  elder  brother  which  she  un- 
consciously imposed  on  him. 

It  was  hard  work  sometimes,  and  there  were  days  when 
he  dreaded  the  daily  rides,  when  the  strain  seemed  almost 
more  than  he  could  bear,  and  he  began  to  make  tentative 


-266 


THE  SHEIK 


suggestions  about  resuming  his  wanderings,  but  always 
the  Sheik  pressed  him  to  stay. 

Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's  final  recovery  was  quick,  and  the 
camp  soon  settled  down  into  normal  conditions.  The 
reinforcements  were  gone  back  to  the  different  camps 
from  which  they  had  been  drawn.  There  was  no  further 
need  of  them.  Ibraheim  Omair's  tribe,  with  their  leader 
dead,  had  broken  up  and  scattered  far  to  the  south ;  there 
was  no  chief  to  keep  them  together  and  no  headman 
strong  enough  to  draw  them  round  a.  new  chieftain,  for 
Ibraheim  had  allowed  no  member  of  his  tribe  to  attain 
any  degree  of  wealth  or  power  that  might  prove  him  a 
rival;  so  they  had  split  up  into  numerous  small  bands 
lacking  cohesion.  In  fulfilling  the  vow  made  to  his 
predecessor  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  had  cleared  the  desert 
of  a  menace  that  had  hung  over  it  for  many  years. 

The  relations  between  the  Sheik  and  Saint  Hubert  had 
gone  back  to  what  they  had  been  the  night  of  Raoul's 
arrival,  before  his  candid  criticism  had  roused  the  Sheik's 
temper  and  fired  his  jealousy.  The  recollection  of  the 
miserable  week  that  had  preceded  the  raid  had  been 
wiped  out  in  all  that  had  followed  it.  No  shadow  could 
ever  come  between  them  again  since  Raoul  had  volun- 
tarily stood  on  one  side  and  sacrificed  his  own  chance  of 
happiness  for  his  friend's. 

And  with  the  Sheik's  complete  recovery  his  attitude 
towards  Diana  had  reverted  to  the  cold  reserve  that  had 
chilled  her  before  —  a  reserve  that  was  as  courteous  as  it 
was  indifferent.  He  had  avoided  her  as  much  as  had 
been  possible,  and  the  continual  presence  of  Saint  Hubert 
had  been  a  barrier  between  them.  Unostensibly  but  ef- 
fectually he  had  contrived  that  Raoul  should  never  leave 


THE  SHEIK 


267 


them  alone.  Though  he  included  her  in  the  general  con- 
versation he  rarely  spoke  to  her  directly,  and  often  she 
found  him  looking  at  her  with  his  fierce  eyes  filled  with  an 
expression  that  baffled  her,  and  as  each  time  the  quick 
\  blood  rushed  into  her  face  his  forehead  drew  together  in 
'  the  heavy  frown  that  was  so  characteristic.  During 
meals  it  was  Raoul  that  kept  the  conversation  from 
lapsing  with  ready  tact  and  an  eloquent  flow  of  wrords, 
ranging  over  many  subjects.  In  the  evening  the  men 
became  immersed  in  the  projection  of  Saint  Hubert's  new 
book,  for  details  of  which  he  was  drawing  on  the  Sheik's 
knowledge,  and  long  after  Diana  left  them  she  could  hear 
the  two  voices,  both  deep  and  musical,  but  Raoul's  quicker 
and  more  emphatic,  continuously  rising  and  falling,  till 
at  last  Raoul  would  go  to  his  own  tent  and  Gaston  would 
come  —  noiseless  and  soft-toned  as  his  master.  Ordi- 
narily the  Sheik  dispensed  with  him  at  night,  but  since 
his  wound,  the  valet,  as  soon  as  he  had  himself  recovered, 
had  always  been  in  attendance.  Some  nights  he  lingered 
talking,  and  others  the  Sheik  dismissed  him  in  a  few 
minutes  with  only  a  curt  word  or  two,  and  then  there 
would  be  silence,  and  Diana  would  bury  her  face  in  her 
pillow  and  writhe  in  her  desperate  loneliness,  sick  with 
longing  for  the  strong  arms  she  had  once  dreaded  and 
the  kisses  she  had  once  loathed.  He  had  slept  in  the 
outer  room  since  his  illness,  and  tossing  feverishly  on 
the  soft  cushions  of  the  big  empty  bed  in  which  she  lay 
alone  Diana  had  suffered  the  greatest  humiliation  she  had 
yet  experienced.  He  had  never  loved  her,  but  now  he 
did  not  even  want  her.  She  was  useless  to  him.  She 
was  less  than  nothing  to  him.  He  had  no  need  of  her. 
She  would  lie  awake  listening  wearily  to  the  tiny  chimes 


268 


THE  SHEIK 


of  the  little  clock  with  the  bitter  sense  of  her  Heedless- 
ness crushing  her.  She  was-  humbled  to  the  very  dust  by 
his  indifference.  The  hours  of  loneliness  in  the  room 
that  was  redolent  with  associations  of  him  were  filled 
with  memories  that  *  tortured  her.  In  her  fitful  sleep 
her  dreams  were  agonies  from  which  she  awakened  with 
shaking  limbs  and  shuddering  breath,  and  waking,  her 
hand  would  stretch  out  groping  to  him  till  remembrance 
came  with  cruel  vividness. 

In  the  daytime,  too,  she  had  been  much  alone,  for  as 
soon  as  the  Sheik  was  strong  enough  to  sit  in  the  saddle 
the  two  men  had  ridden  far  afield  every  day,  visiting  the 
outlying  camps  and  drawing  into  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's 
own  hands  again  the  affairs  that  had  had  to  be  relegated 
to  the  headmen. 

At  last  Raoul  had  announced  that  his  visit  could  be 
protracted  no  longer  and  that  he  must  resume  his  journey 
to  Morocco.  He  was  going  up  to  Oran  and  from  there 
to  Tangier  by  coasting  steamer,  collecting  at  Tangier  a 
caravan  for  his  expedition  through  Morocco.  His  de- 
cision once  made  he  had  speeded  every  means  of  getting 
away  with  a  despatch  that  had  almost  suggested  flight. 

To  Diana  his  going  meant  the  hastening  of  a  crisis  that 
could  not  be  put  off  much  longer.  The  situation  was 
becoming  impossible.  She  had  said  good-bye  to  him  the 
night  before.  She  had  never  guessed  the  love  she  had 
inspired  in  him,  and  she  wondered  at  the  sadness  in  his 
eyes  and  his  unaccustomed  lack  of  words.  He  had 
wanted  to  say  so  much  and  he  had  said  so  little.  She 
must  never  guess  and  Ahmed  must  never  guess,  so  he 
played  the  game  to  the  end.  Only  that  night  after  she 
had  left  them  the  voices  sounded  in  the  adjoining  room 


THE  SHEIK  269 

for  a  very  short  time.  And  this  morning  he  and  Ahmed 
Ben  Hassan  had  ridden  away  at  daybreak.  She  had  not 
been  asleep ;  she  had  heard  them  go,  and  almost  she  wished 
Raoul  back,  for  with  his  presence  the  vague  fear  that 
assailed  her  seemed  further  away.  The  camp  had  seemed 
very  lonely  and  the  day  very  long. 

She  had  ridden  with  Gaston,  and  hurried  over  her  soli* 
tary  dinner,  and  since  then  she  had  been  waiting  for  the 
Sheik  to  come  back.  In  what  mood  would  he  come? 
Since  Raoul's  announcement  of  his  departure  he  had  been 
more  than  usually  taciturn  and  reserved.  The  book  she 
held  slipped  at  length  on  to  the  floor,  and  she  let  it  He 
unheeded.  The  usual  stillness  of  the  desert  seemed  to- 
night unusually  still  —  sinister  even  — and  the  silence 
was  so  intense  that  the  sudden  squeal  of  a  stallion  a  little 
distance  away  made  her  start  with  madly  racing  heart. 
Earlier  in  the  evening  a  tom-tom  had  been  going  persist- 
ently in  the  men's  lines,  and  later  a  native  pipe  had 
shrilled  thinly  in  monotonous  cadence ;  but  she  had  grown 
accustomed  to  these  sounds ;  they  were  of  nightly  occur- 
rence and  they  soothed  rather  than  irritated  her,  and  when 
they  stopped  the  quiet  had  become  intensified  to  such  a 
degree  that  she  would  have  welcomed  any  sound.  To- 
night her  nerves  were  on  edge.  She  was  restless  and 
excited,  and  her  thoughts  were  chaos. 

She  was  alone  again  at  his  mercy.  What  would  his 
attitude  be  ?  Her  hands  clenched  on  her  knees.  At  times 
she  lay  almost  without  breathing,  straining  to  hear  the 
faintest  sound  that  would  mean  his  return,  and  then  again 
lest  she  should  hear  what  she  listened  for.  She  longed 
for  him  passionately,  and  at  the  same  time  she  waa  afraid. 
He  had  changed  so  much  that  there  were  moments  when 


270 


THE  SHEIK 


she  had  the  curious  feeling  that  it  was  a  stranger  who 
was  coming  back  to  her,  and  she  both  dreaded  his  coming 
and  yearned  for  it  with  a  singular  combination  of  emo- 
tions. She  looked  round  the  room  where  she  had  at 
once  suffered  so  much  and  been  so  happy  with  troubled 
eyes.  She  had  never  been  nervous  before,  but  to-night 
her  imagination  ran  riot.  There  was  electricity  in  the 
air  which  acted  on  her  overstrung  nerves.  The  little 
shaded  lamp  threw  a  circle  of  light  round  the  bed,  but 
left  the  rest  of  the  room  dim,  and  the  dusky  corners 
seemed  full  of  odd  new  shadows  that  came  and  went 
i!  isively.  Hangings  and  objects  that  were  commonly 
familiar  to  her  took  on  fantastic  shapes  that  she  watched 
nervously,  till  at  last  she  brushed  her  hand  across  her 
eyes  with  a  laugh  of  angry  impatience.  Was  the  love 
that  had  changed  her  so  completely  also  making  her  a 
coward?  Had  even  her  common-sense  been  lost  in  the 
one  great  emotion  that  held  her?  She  understood  per- 
fectly the  change  that  had  taken  place  in  her.  She  had 
never  had  any  illusions  about  herself,  and  had  never  at- 
tempted to  curb  the  obstinate  self-will  and  haughty  pride 
that  had  characterized  her.  She  thought  of  it  curiously, 
her  mind  going  back  over  the  last  few  months  that  had 
changed  her  whole  life.  The  last  mad  freak  for  which  she 
had  paid  so  dearly  had  been  the  outcome  of  an  arrogant 
determination  to  have  her  own  way  in  the  face  of  all 
protests  and  advice.  And  with  a  greater  arrogance  and 
a  determination  stronger  than  her  own  Ahmed  Ben  Has- 
san had  tamed  her  as  he  tamed  the  magnificent  horses 
that  he  rode.  He  had  been  brutal  and  merciless,  using  no 
half  measures,  forcing  her  to  obedience  by  sheer  strength 
of  will  and  compelling  a  complete  submission.  She 


THE  SHEIK 


271 


thought  of  how  she  had  feared  and  hated  him  with  pas- 
sionate intensity,  until  the  hatred  had  been  swamped  by 
love  as  passionate  and  as  intense.  She  did  not  know  why 
she  loved  him,  she  had  never  been  able  to  analyse  the 
passion  that  held  her  so  strongly,  but  she  knew  deep  down 
in  her  heart  that  it  went  now  far  past  his  mere  physical 
beauty  and  superb  animal  strength.  She  loved  him 
blindly  with  a  love  that  had  killed  her  pride  and  brought 
her  to  his  feet  humbly  obedient.  All  the  love  that  had 
lain  dormant  in  her  heart  for  years  was  given  to  him. 
Body  and  soul  she  belonged  to  him.  And  the  change 
within  her  was  patent  in  her  face,  the  haughty  expression 
in  her  eyes  had  turned  to  a  tender  wistfulness,  with  a 
curious  gleam  of  expectancy  that  flickered  in  them  per- 
petually; the  little  mutinous  mouth  had  lost  the  scornful 
curve.  And  with  the  complete  change  in  her  expression 
she  was  far  more  beautiful  now  than  she  had  ever  been. 
But  with  her  love  was  the  fear  of  him  that  she  had 
learned  during  the  first  hours  of  her  captivity,  the  physi- 
cal fear  that  she  had  never  lost,  even  during  the  happy 
weeks  that  had  preceded  the  coming  of  Saint  Hubert,  and 
the  greater  fear  that  was  with  her  always,  and  that  at 
times  drove  her,  with  wide-stricken  eyes,  wildly  to  pace 
the  tent  as  if  to  escape  the  shadow  that  hung  over  her  — ■ 
the  fear  of  the  time  when  he  should  tire  of  her.  The 
thought  racked  her,  and  now,  as  always,  she  tried  to  put 
it  from  her,  but  it  continued,  persistently  haunting  her 
like  a  grim  spectre.  Always  the  same  thought  tortured 
her  —  he  had  not  taken  her  for  love.  No  higher  motive 
than  a  passing  fancy  had  stirred  him.  He  had  seen  her, 
had  wished  for  her  and  had  taken  her,  and  once  in  his 
power  it  had  amused  him  to  break  her  to  his  hand.  She 


272 


THE  SHEIK 


realised  all  that.  And  he  had  been  honest,  he  had  never 
pretended  to  love  her.  Often  when  the  humour  took  him 
he  could  be  gentle,  as  in  those  last  few  weeks,  but  gentle- 
ness was  not  love,  and  she  had  never  seen  the  light  that 
she  longed  for  kindle  in  his  eyes.  His  caresses  had  been 
passionate  or  careless  with  his  mood.  She  did  not  know 
that  he  loved  her.  She  had  not  been  with  him  during  the 
long  hours  of  his  delirium  and  she  had  not  heard  what 
Raoul  de  Saint  Hubert  had  heard.  And  since  his  re- 
covery his  attitude  of  aloofness  had  augmented  her  fear. 
There  seemed  only  one  construction  to  put  on  his  silence, 
and  his  studied  and  obvious  avoidance  of  her.  The  pass- 
ing fancy  had  passed.  It  was  as  if  the  fleeting  passion  he 
had  had  for  her  had  been  drained  from  him  with  the  blood 
that  flowed  from  the  terrible  wound  he  had  received.  He 
was  tired  of  her  and  seeking  for  a  means  to  disembarrass 
himself  of  her.  Vaguely  she  felt  that  she  had  known  this 
for  weeks,  but  to-night  was  the  first  time  that  she  had  had 
courage  to  be  frank  with  herself.  It  must  be  so.  Every- 
thing pointed  to  it;  the  curious  expression  she  had  seen 
in  his  eyes  and  his  constant  heavy  frown  all  confirmed  it. 
She  flung  her  arm  across  her  eyes  with  a  little  moan.  He 
was  tired  of  her  and  the  bottom  had  fallen  out  of  her 
world.  The  instinct  to  fight  for  his  love  that  had  been 
so  strong  in  her  the  day  that  Ibraheim  Omair  had  captured 
her  had  died  with  the  death  of  all  her  hopes.  Her  spirit 
was  broken.  She  knew  that  her  will  was  helpless  against 
his,  and  with  a  fatalism  that  she  had  learned  in  the  desert 
she  accepted  the  inevitable  with  a  crushed  feeling  of  hope- 
lessness. 

She  wondered  numbly  what  would  become  of  her.  It 
did  not  seem  to  matter  much.    Nothing  mattered  now  that 


THE  SHEIK 


273 


he  did  not  want  her  any  more.  The  old  life  was  far 
away,  in  another  world.    She  could  never  go  back  to  it. 


She  did  not  care.  It  was  nothing  to  her.  It  was  only/ 
here  in  the  desert,  in  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's  arms,  that  she 
had  become  alive,  that  she  had  learned  what  life  really 
meant,  that  she  had  waked  both  to  happiness  and  sorrow. 

The  future  stretched  out  blank  and  menacing  before 
her,  but  she  turned  from  it  with  a  great  sob  of  despair. 
It  was  on  him  that  her  thoughts  were  fixed.  How  would 
life  be  endurable  without  him?  Dully  she  wondered  why 
she  did  not  hate  him  for  having  done  to  her  what  he  had 
done,  for  having  made  her  what  she  was.  But  nothing 
that  he  could  do  could  kill  the  love  now  that  he  had  in- 
spired. And  she  would  never  regret.  She  would  always 
have  the  memory  of  the  fleeting  happiness  that  had  been 
hers  —  in  after  years  that  memory  would  be  all  that  she 
would  have  to  live  for.  Even  in  her  heart  she  did  not 
reproach  him,  there  was  no  bitterness  in  her  misery.  She 
had  always  known  that  it  would  come,  though  she  had 
fenced  with  it,  shutting  it  out  of  her  mind  resolutely. 
He  had  never  led  her  to  expect  anything  else.  There  was 
no  link  to  bring  them  closer  together,  no  bond  between 
them.  If  she  could  have  had  the  promise  of  a  child.1 
Alone  though  she  was  the  sensitive  colour  flamed  into  her 
cheeks,  and  she  hid  her  face  in  the  pillows  with  a  quiver- 
ing sob.  A  child  that  would  be  his  and  hers,  a  child  —  a 
boy  with  the  same  passionate  dark  eyes,  the  same  crisp 
brown  hair,  the  same  graceful  body,  who  would  grow  up 
as  tall  and  strong,  as  brave  and  fearless  as  his  father. 
Surely  he  must  love  her  then.  Surely  the  memory  of  his 
own  mother's  tragic  history  would  make  him  merciful  to 
the  mother  of  his  son.    But  she  had  no  hope  of  that 


274 


THE  SHEIK 


mercy.  She  lay  shaking  with  passionate  yearning  and 
the  storm  of  bitter  tears  that  swept  over  her,  hungry  for 
the  clasp  of  his  arms,  faint  with  longing.  The  pent-up 
misery  of  weeks  that  she  had  crushed  down  surged  over. 
There  was  nobody  to  hear  the  agonising  sobs  that  shook 
her  from  head  to  foot.  She  could  relax  the  control  that 
she  had  put  upon  herself  and  which  had  seemed  to  be 
slowly  turning  her  to  stone.  She  could  give  way  to  the 
emotion  that,  suppressed,  had  welled  up  choking  in  her 
throat  and  gripped  her  forehead  like  red-hot  bands  eating 
into  her  brain.  Tears  were  not  easy  to  her.  She  had 
not  wept  since  that  first  night  when,  with  the  fear  of 
worse  than  death,  she  had  grovelled  at  his  feet,  moaning 
for  mercy.  She  had  not  wept  during  the  terrible  hours 
she  was  in  the  power  of  Ibraheim  Omair,  nor  during  the 
days  that  Raoul  de  Saint  Hubert  had  fought  for  his 
friend's  life.  But  tonight  the  tears  that  all  her  life  she 
had  despised  would  not  be  denied.  Tortured  with  con- 
flicting emotions,  unsatisfied  love,  fear  and  uncertainty, 
utterly  unnerved,  she  gave  herself  up  at  last  to  the  feel- 
ings she  could  no  longer  restrain.  Prone  on  the  wide  bed, 
her  face  buried  in  the  pillows,  her  hands  clutching  con- 
vulsively at  the  silken  coverings,  she  wept  until  she  had 
no  more  tears,  until  the  anguished  sobs  died  away  into 
silence  and  she  lay  quiet,  exhausted. 

She  wrestled  with  herself.  The  weakness  that  she  had 
given  way  to  must  be  conquered.  She  knew  that,  with- 
out any  possibility  of  doubt,  his  coming  would  seal  her 
fate  —  whatever  it  was  to  be.  She  must  wait  until  then. 
A  long,  shuddering  sigh  ran  through  her.  "  Ahmed ! 
Ahmed  Ben  Hassan,"  she  murmured  slowly,  lingering 
with  wistful  tenderness  on  the  words.    She  pressed  her 


THE  SHEIK 


275 


face  closer  into  the  cushions,  clasping  her  hands  over  her 
head,  and  for  a  long  time  lay  very  still.  The  heat  was 
intense  and  every  moment  the  tent  seemed  to  grow  more 
airless.  The  room  was  stifling,  and,  with  a  little  groan, 
Diana  sat  up,  pushing  the  heavy  hair  off  her  damp  fore- 
head, and  covered  her  flushed  face  with  her  hands.  A 
cicada  began  its  shrill  note  close  by,  chirping  with  mad- 
dening persistency.  Quite  suddenly  her  mind  was  filled 
with  thoughts  of  her  own  people,  the  old  home  in  Eng- 
land, the  family  for  whose  honour  her  ancestors  had  been 
so  proudly  jealous.  Even  Aubrey,  lazy  and  self-indul- 
gent as  he  was,  prized  the  family  honour  as  he  prized  noth- 
ing else  on  earth ;  and  now  she,  proud  Diana  Mayo,  who 
had  the  history  of  her  race  at  her  fingers'  ends,  who  had 
gloried  in  the  long  line  of  upright  men  and  chaste  women, 
had  no  thankfulness  in  her  heart  that  in  her  degradation 
she  had  been  spared  a  crowning  shame.  Beside  her  love 
everything  dwindled  into  nothingness.  He  was  her  life, 
he  filled  her  horizon.  Honour  itself  was  lost  in  the^ 
absorbing  passion  of  her  love.  He  had  stripped  it  from 
her  and  she  was  content  that  it  should  lie  at  his  feet. 
He  had  made  her  nothing,  she  was  his  toy,  his  plaything, 
waiting  to  be  thrown  aside.  She  shuddered  again  and 
looked  around  the  tent  that  she  had  shared  with  him  with 
a  bitter  smile  and  sad,  hunted  eyes.  .  .  .  After  her  — 
who?  The  cruel  thought  persisted.  She  was  torn  with 
a  mad,  primitive  jealousy,  a  longing  to  kill  the  unknown 
woman  who  would  inevitably  succeed  her,  a  desire  that 
grew  until  a  horror  of  her  own  feelings  seized  her,  and 
she  shrank  down,  clasping  her  hands  over  her  ears  to  shut 
out  the  insidious  voice  that  seemed  actually  whispering 
beside  her.    The  Persian  hound  in  the  next  room  hac! 


276 


THE  SHEIK 


whined  uneasily  from  time  to  time,  and  now  he  pushed 
his  way  past  the  curtain  and  stalked  across  the  thick 
rugs.  He  nozzled  his  shaggy  head  against  her  knee, 
whimpering  unhappily,  looking  up  into  her  face.  And 
when  she  noticed  him  he  reared  up  and  flung  his  long 
body  across  her  lap,  thrusting  his  wet  nose  into  her  face. 
She  caught  his  head  in  her  hands  and  rubbed  her  cheek 
against  his  rough  hair,  crooning  over  him  softly.  Even 
the  dog  was  comfort  in  her  loneliness,  and  they  both 
waited  for  their  master. 

She  pushed  him  down  at  length,  and  with  her  hand  on 
his  collar  went  into  the  other  room.  A  solitary  lamp 
burned  dimly.  She  crossed  to  the  doorway  and  pulled 
aside  the  flap,  and  a  small,  white-clad  figure  rose  up  before 
her. 

"  Is  that  you,  Gaston  ?  "  she  asked  involuntarily,  though 
she  knew  that  the  question  was  unnecessary,  for  Fe  always 
slept  across  the  entrance  to  the  tent  when  the  Sheik  was 
away. 

"A  voire  service,  Madame." 

For  a  few  minutes  she  did  not  speak,  and  Gaston  stood 
silent  "beside  her.  She  might  have  remembered  that  he 
was  there.  He  never  stirred  far  beyond  the  sound  of  her 
voice  whenever  she  was  alone  in  the  camp.  He  was  al- 
ways waiting,  unobtrusive,  quick  to  carry  out  her  requests, 
even  to  anticipate  them.  With  him  standing  beside  her 
she  thought  of  the  time  when  they  had  fought  side  by 
side  —  all  difference  in  rank  eclipsed  in  their  common 
danger.  The  servant  had  been  merged  into  the  man,  and 
a  man  who  had  the  courage  to  do  what  he  had  attempted 
when  he  had  faced  her  at  what  had  seemed  the  last  mo- 


THE  SHEIK  277 

ment  with  his  revolver  clenched  in  a  hand  that  had  not 
shaken,  a  man  at  whose  side  and  by  whose  hand  she 
would  have  been  proud  to  die.  They  were  men,  these 
desert  dwellers,  master  and  servants  alike;  men  who 
1  endured,  men  who  did  things,  inured  to  hardships,  im- 
bued with  magnificent  courage,  splendid  healthy  animals. 
There  was  nothing  effete  or  decadent  about  the  men  with 
whom  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  surrounded  himself. 

Diana  had  always  liked  Gaston;  she  had  been  touched 
by  his  unvarying  respectful  attitude  that  had  never  by  a 
single  word  or  look  conveyed  the  impression  that  he  was 
aware  of  her  real  position  in  his  master's  camp.  He 
treated  her  as  if  she  were  indeed  what  from  the  bottom  of 
her  heart  she  wished  she  was.  He  was  solicitous  without 
being  officious,  familiar  with  no  trace  of  impertinence, 
He  was  Diana's  first  experience  of  a  class  of  servant  that 
still  lingers  in  France,  a  survival  of  pre-Revolution  days, 
who  identify  themselves  entirely  with  the  family  they 
serve,  and  in  Gaston's  case  this  interest  in  his  master  had 
been  strengthened  by  experiences  shared  and  dangers 
faced  which  had  bound  them  together  with  a  tie  that 
could  never  be  broken  and  had  raised  their  relations  on  to 
a  higher  plane  than  that  of  mere  master  and  man.  Those 
relations  had  at  first  been  a  source  of  perpetual  wonder 
to  Diana,  brought  up  in  the  rigid  atmosphere  of  her 
brother's  establishment,  where  Aubrey's  egoism  gave  no 
opportunity  for  anything  but  conventional  service,  and 
in  their  wanderings,  where  personal  servants  had  to  be 
often  changed.  Even  Stephens  was,  in  Aubrey's  eyes,  a 
mere  machine. 

Very  soon  after  she  had  been  brought  to  Ahmed  Ben 


278 


THE  SHEIK 


Hassan's  camp  she  had  realised  that  Gaston's  devotion 
to  the  Sheik  had  been  extended  to  herself,  but  since  the 
night  of  the  raid  he  had  frankly  worshipped  her. 

It  was  very  airless  even  out-of-doors.  She  peered  into 
the  darkness,  but  there  was  little  light  from  the  tiny 
crescent  moon,  and  she  could  see  nothing.  She  moved  a 
few  steps  forward  from  under  the  awning  to  look  up  at 
the  brilliant  stars  twinkling  overhead.  She  had  watched 
them  so  often  from  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan's  arms ;  they 
had  become  an  integral  part  of  the  passionate  Oriental 
nights.  He  loved  them,  and  when  the  mood  was  on  him, 
watched  them  untiringly,  teaching  her  to  recognise  them, 
and  telling  her  countless  Arab  legends  connected  with 
them,  sitting  under  the  awning  far  in*o  the  night,  till 
gradually  his  voice  faded  away  from  her  ears,  and  long 
after  she  was  asleep  he  would  sit  on  motionless,  staring  up 
into  the  heavens,  smoking  endless  cigarettes.  Would  it  be 
given  to  her  ever  to  watch  them  again  sparkling  against 
the  blue-blackness  of  the  sky,  with  the  curve  of  his  arm 
round  her  and  the  steady  beat  of  his  heart  under  her 
cheek?  A  stab  of  pain  went  through  her.  Would  any- 
thing ever  be  the  same  again?  Everything  had  changed 
since  the  coming  of  Raoul  de  Saint  Hubert.  A  weary 
sigh  broke  from  her  lips. 

"  Madam  is  tired  ?  "  a  respectful  voice  murmured  at 
her  ear. 

Diana  started.  She  had  forgotten  the  valet.  "  It  is  so 
hot.    The  tent  was  stifling,"  she  said  evasively. 

Gaston's  devotion  was  of  a  kind  that  sought  practical 
demonstration.  " Madame  veut  du  cafe?"  he  suggested 
tentatively.  It  was  his  universal  panacea,  but  at  the  mo- 
ment it  sounded  almost  grotesque. 


THE  SHEIK 


279 


Diana  felt  an  hysterical  desire  to  laugh  which  nearly 
turned  into  tears,  but  she  checked  herself.  44  No,  it  is 
too  late." 

"  In  one  little  moment  I  will  bring  it,"  Gaston  urged 
persuasively,  unwilling  to  give  up  his  own  gratification  in 
serving  her. 

4<  No,  Gaston.    It  makes  me  nervous,"  she  said  gently. 

Gaston  heaved  quite  a  tragic  sigh.  His  own  nerves 
were  steel  and  his  capacity  for  imbibing  large  quantities  of 
black  coffee  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night  unlimited. 

"  Une  limonddef"  he  persisted  hopefully. 

She  let  him  bring  the  cool  drink  more  for  his  pleasure 
than  for  her  own.  44  Monseigneur  is  late,"  she  said 
slowly,  straining  her  eyes  again  into  the  darkness. 

44  He  will  come,"  replied  Gaston  confidently.  '4  Kopec 
is  restless,  he  is  always  so  when  Monseigneur  is  coming." 

She  looked  down  for  a  moment  thoughtfully  at  the  dim 
shape  of  the  hound  lying  at  the  man's  feet,  and  then  with 
a  last  upward  glance  at  the  bright  stars  turned  back  into 
the  tent.  All  her  nervous  fears  had  vanished  in  speaking 
to  Gaston,  who  was  the  embodiment  of  practical  common 
sense ;  earlier,  when  unreasoning  terror  had  taken  such  a 
hold  on  her,  she  had  forgotten  that  he  was  within  call, 
faithful  and  devoted.  She  picked  up  the  fallen  book,  and 
lying  down  again  forced  herself  to  read,  but  though  her 
eyes  followed  the  lines  mechanically  she  did  not  sense 
what  she  was  reading,  and  all  the  time  her  ears  were 
strained  to  catch  the  earliest  sound  of  his  coming. 

At  last  it  came.  Only  a  suggestion  at  first  —  a  wave  of 
thought  caught  by  her  waiting  brain,  an  instinctive  intui- 
tion, and  she  started  up  tense  with  expectancy,  her  lips 
parted,  her  eyes  wide,  hardly  breathing,  listening  intently. 


28o 


THE  SHEIK 


And  when  he  came  it  was  with  unexpected  suddenness, 
for,  in  the  darkness,  the  little  band  of  horsemen  were 
invisible  until  they  were  right  on  the  camp,  and  the  horses' 
hoofs  made  no  sound.  The  stir  caused  by  his  arrival  died 
away  quickly.  For  a  moment  there  was  a  confusion  of 
voices,  a  jingle  of  accoutrements,  one  of  the  horses  whin- 
nied, and  then  in  the  ensuing  silence  she  heard  him  come 
into  the  tent.  Her  heart  raced  suffocatingly.  There  was 
a  murmur  of  conversation,  the  Sheik's  low  voice  and 
Gaston's  quick  animated  tones  answering  him,  and  then 
the  servant  hurried  out.  Acutely  conscious  of  every 
sound,  she  waited  motionless,  her  hands  gripping  the  soft 
mattress  until  her  fingers  cramped,  breathing  in  long, 
painful  gasps  as  she  tried  to  stop  the  laboured  beating  of 
her  heart.  In  spite  of  the  heat  a  sudden  coldness  crept 
over  her,  and  she  shivered  violently  from  time  to  time. 
Her  face  was  quite  white,  even  her  lips  were  colourless 
and  her  eyes,  fixed  on  the  curtain  which  divided  the  two 
rooms,  glittered  feverishly.  With  her  intimate  knowledge 
every  movement  in  the  adjoining  room  was  as  perceptible 
as  if  she  had  seen  it.  He  was  pacing  up  and  down  as  he 
had  paced  on  the  night  when  Gaston's  fate  was  hanging 
in  the  balance,  as  he  always  paced  when  he  was  deliber- 
ating-1 anything,  and  the  scent  of  his  cigarette  filled  her 
room.  Once  he  paused  near  the  communicating  curtain 
and  her  heart  gave  a  wild  leap,  but  after  a  moment  he 
moved  away.  He  stopped  again  at  the  far  end  of  the 
tent,  and  she  knew  from  the  faint  metallic  click  that  he 
was  loading  his  revolver.  She  heard  him  lay  it  down  on 
the  little  writing-table,  and  then  the  steady  tramping  began 
once  more.  His  restlessness  made  her  uneasy.  He  had 
been  in  the  saddle  since  early  dawn.    Saint  Hubert  had 


THE  SHEIK 


281 


advised  him  to  be  careful  for  some  weeks  yet.  It  was 
imprudent  not  to  rest  when  opportunity  offered.  He  was 
so  careless  of  himself.  She  gave  a  quick,  impatient  sigh, 
and  the  tender  light  in  her  eyes  deepened  into  an  anxiety 
that  was  half  maternal.  In  spite  of  his  renewed  strength 
and  his  laughing  protests  at  Raoul's  warnings,  coupled 
with  a  physical  demonstration  on  his  less  muscular  friend 
that  had  been  very  conclusive,  she  could  never  forget  that 
she  had  seen  him  lying  helpless  as  a  child,  too  weak  even 
to  raise  his  hand.  Nothing  could  ever  take  the  remem- 
brance from  her,  and  nothing  could  ever  alter  the  fact  that 
in  his  weakness  he  had  been  dependent  on  her.  She  had 
been  necessary  to  him  then.  She  had  a  moment's  fierce 
pleasure  in  the  thought,  but  it  faded  as  suddenly  as  it  had 
come.    It  had  been  an  ephemeral  happiness. 

At  last  she  heard  the  divan  creak  under  his  weight,  but 
not  until  Gaston  came  back  bringing  his  supper.  As  he 
ate  he  spoke,  and  his  first  words  provoked  an  exclama- 
tion of  dismay  from  the  Frenchman,  which  was  hastiJy 
smothered  with  a  murmured  apology,  and  then  Diana 
became  aware  that  others  had  come  into  the  room.  He 
spoke  to  each  in  turn,  and  she  recognised  Yusef's  clear, 
rather  high-pitched  voice  arguing  with  the  taciturn  head 
camelman,  whose  surly  intonations  and  behaviour  matched 
the  bad-tempered  animals  to  whom  he  was  devoted,  until 
a  word  from  Ahmed  Ben  Hassan  silenced  them  both. 
There  were  two  more  who  received  their  orders  with  only 
a  grunt  of  acquiescence. 

Presently  they  went  out,  but  Yusef  lingered,  talking 
volubly,  half  in  Arabic,  half  in  French,  but  lapsing  more 
and  more  into  the  vernacular  as  he  grew  excited.  Even 
in  the  midst  of  her  trouble  the  thought  of  him  sent  a 


282 


THE  SHEIK 


little  smile  to  Diana's  lips.  She  could  picture  him  squat- 
ting before  the  Sheik,  scented  and  immaculate,  his  fine 
eyes  rolling,  his  slim  hands  waving  continually,  his  hand- 
some face  alight  with  boyish  enthusiasm  and  worship.  At 
last  he,  too,  went,  and  only  Gaston  remained,  busy  with 
the  cafetiere  that  was  his  latest  toy.  The  aroma  of  the 
boiling  coffee  filled  the  tent.  She  could  imagine  the 
servant's  deft  fingers  manipulating  the  fragile  glass  and 
silver  appliance.  She  could  hear  the  tinkle  of  the  spoon 
as  he  moved  the  cup,  the  splash  of  the  coffee  as  he  poured 
it  out,  the  faint  sound  of  the  cup  being  placed  on  the  inlaid 
table.  Why  was  Ahmed  drinking  French  coffee  when 
he  always  complained  it  kept  him  awake?  At  night  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  taking  the  native  preparation.  Surely 
to-night  he  had  need  of  sleep.  It  was  the  hardest  day  he 
had  had  since  his  illness.  For  a  few  moments  longer  Gas- 
ton moved  about  the  outer  room,  and  from  the  sound 
Diana  guessed  that  he  was  collecting  on  to  a  tray  the  vari- 
ous things  that  had  to  be  removed.  Then  his  voice,  louder 
than  he  had  spoken  before : 

"  Monseigneur  desir  d' autre  chose?" 

The  Sheik  must  have  signed  in  the  negative,  for  there 
was  no  audible  answer. 

"  B on  soir,  Monseigneur." 

"Bon  soir,  Gaston" 

Diana  drew  a  quick  breath.  While  the  man  was  still 
in  the  adjoining  room  the  moment  for  which  she  was 
waiting  seemed  interminable.  And  now  she  wished  he 
had  not  gone.  He  stood  between  her  and  —  what  ?  For 
the  first  time  since  the  coming  of  Saint  Hubert  she  was 
alone  with  him,  really  alone.  Only  a  curtain  separated 
them,  a  curtain  that  she  could  not  pass.    She  longed  to 


THE  SHEIK 


283 


go  to  him,  but  she  did  not  dare.  She  was  pulled  between 
love  and  fear,  and  for  the  moment  fear  was  in  the  ascend- 
ant. She  shivered,  and  a  sob  rose  in  her  throat  as  the 
memory  came  to  her  of  another  night  during  those  two 
months  of  happiness,  that  were  fast  becoming  like  a 
wonderful  dream,  when  he  had  ridden  in  late.  After 
Gaston  left  she  had  gone  to  him,  flushed  and  bright-eyed 
with  sleep,  and  he  had  pulled  her  down  on  to  his  knee,  and 
made  her  share  the  native  coffee  she  detested,  laughing 
boyishly  at  her  face  of  disgust.  And,  holding  her  in  his 
arms  with  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  he  had  told  her  all 
the  incidents  of  the  day's  visit  to  one  of  the  other  camps, 
and  from  his  men  and  his  horses  drifted  almost  insensibly 
into  details  connected  with  his  own  plans  for  the  future, 
which  were  really  the  intimate  confidences  of  a  husband 
to  a  wife  who  is  also  a  comrade.  The  mingled  pain  and 
pleasure  of  the  thought  had  made  her  shiver,  and  he 
had  started  up,  declaring  that  she  was  cold,  and,  lifting 
her  till  his  cheek  was  resting  on  hers,  carried  her  back  into 
the  other  room. 

But  what  she  had  done  then  was  impossible  now.  He 
seemed  so  utterly  strange,  so  different  from  the  man  whom 
she  thought  she  had  grown  to  understand.  She  was  all 
at  sea.  She  was  desperately  tired,  her  head  aching  and 
confused  with  the  terrible  problems  of  the  future.  She 
dared  not  think  any  more.  She  only  wanted  to  lie  in  his 
arms  and  sob  her  heart  out  against  his.  She  was  starv- 
ing for  the  touch  of  his  hands,  suffering  horribly. 

She  slid  down  on  to  her  knees,  burying  her  face  in  the 
couch. 

*'  Oh,  God !  Give  me  his  love !  "  she  kept  whispering 
in  agonised  entreaty,  until  the  recollection  of  the  night, 


284 


THE  SHEIK 


months  before,  when  in  the  same  posture  she  had  prayed 
that  God's  curse  might  fall  on  him,  sent  a  shudder  through 
her. 

"  I  didn't  mean  if,"  she  moaned.  "  Oh,  dear  God !  I 
didn't  mean  it.  I  didn't  know.  .  .  .  Take  it  back.  I 
didn't  mean  it." 

She  choked  down  the  sobs  that  rose,  pressing  her  face 
closer  into  the  silken  coverings. 

There  was  silence  in  the  next  room  except  for  the 
striking  of  a  match  that  came  with  monotonous  regularity. 
And  always  the  peculiar  scent  of  his  tobacco  drifting  in 
through  the  heavy  curtains,  forcing  a  hundred  recollec- 
tions with  the  association  of  its  perfume.  Why  didn't 
he  come  to  her?  Did  he  know  how  he  was  torturing  her? 
Was  he  so  utterly  indifferent  that  he  did  not  care  what 
she  suffered?  Did  he  even  think  of  her,  to  wonder  if 
she  suffered  or  not?  The  fear  of  the  future  rushed  on 
her  again  with  overwhelming  force.  The  uncertainty  was 
killing  her.  She  raised  her  head  and  looked  at  the 
travelling  clock  beside  the  reading-lamp.  It  was  an  hour 
since  Gaston  had  left  him.  Another  hour  of  waiting 
would  drive  her  mad.  She  must  know  what  he  was  going 
to  do.  She  could  bear  anything  but  this  suspense.  She 
had  reached  the  limit  of  her  endurance.  She  struggled 
to  her  feet,  drawing  the  thin  wrap  closer  around  her.  But 
even  then  she  stood  irresolute,  dreading  the  fulfilling  of 
her  fears ;  she  had  not  the  courage  voluntarily  to  precipi- 
tate her  fate.  She  clung  to  her  fool's  paradise.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  clock,  watching  the  hands  drag 
slowly  round  the  dial.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  crept  past. 
It  seemed  the  quarter  of  a  lifetime,  and  Diana  brushed 
her  hand  across  her  eyes  to  clear  away  the  dazzling  re- 


THE  SHEIK 


285 


flection  of  the  staring  white  china  face  with  its  long  black 
minute-hand.  No  sound  of  any  kind  came  now  from 
the  other  room.  The  silence  was  driving  her  frantic. 
She  was  desperate;  she  must  know,  nothing  could  be 
worse  than  the  agony  she  was  enduring. 

She  set  her  teeth  and,  crossing  the  room,  slipped  noise- 
lessly between  the  curtains.  Then  she  shrank  back  sud- 
denly writh  her  hands  over  her  mouth.  He  was  leaning 
forward  on  the  divan,  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  his  face 
hidden  in  his  hands.  And  it  was  as  a  stranger  that  he 
had  come  back  to  her,  divested  of  the  flowing  robes  that 
had  seemed  essentially  a  part  of  him ;  an  unfamiliar  figure 
in  silk  shirt,  riding  breeches  and  high  brown  boots,  still 
dust-covered  from  the  long  ride.  A  thin  tweed  coat  lay 
in  a  heap  on  the  carpet  —  he  must  have  flung  it  off  after 
Gaston  went,  for  the  valet,  with  his  innate  tidiness,  would 
never  have  left  it  lying  on  the  floor. 

She  looked  at  him  hungrily,  her  eyes  ranging  slowly 
over  the  long  length  of  him  and  lingering  on  his  bent 
head.  The  light  from  the  hanging  lamp  shone  on  his 
thick  brown  hair  burnishing  it  like  bronze.  She  was  shak- 
ing with  a  sudden  new  shyness,  but  love  gave  her  courage 
and  she  went  to  him,  her  bare  feet  noiseless  on  the  rugs. 

11  Ahmed !  "  she  whispered. 

He  lifted  his  head  slowly  and  looked  at  her,  and  the 
sight  of  his  face  sent  her  on  to  her  knees  beside  him,  her 
hands  clutching  the  breast  of  his  soft  shirt. 

"  Ahmed!  What  is  it?  .  .  .  You  are  hurt  — your 
wound  ?  "  she  cried,  her  voice  sharp  with  anxiety. 

He  caught  her  groping  hands,  and  rising,  pulled  her 
gently  to  her  feet,  his  fingers  clenched  round  hers,  looking 
down  at  her  strangely.    Then  he  turned  from  her  without 


286 


THE  SHEIK 


a  word,  and  wrenching  open  the  flap  of  the  tent,  flung  it 

back  and  stood  in  the  open  doorway  staring  out  into  the 
right.  He  looked  oddly  slender  and  tall  silhouetted 
against  the  darkness.  A  gleam  of  perplexity  crept  into 
her  frightened  eyes,  and  one  hand  went  up  to  her  throat. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  whispered  again  breathlessly. 

"  It  is  that  we  start  for  Oran  to-morrow,"  he  replied. 
His  voice  sounded  dull  and  curiously  unlike,  and  with  a 
little  start  Diana  realised  that  he  was  speaking  in  English. 
Her  eyes  closed  and  she  swayed  dizzily. 

"  You  are  sending  me  away  ?  "  she  gasped  slowly. 

There  was  a  pause  before  he  answered. 

44  Yes." 

The  curt  monosyllable  lashed  her  like  a  whip.  She 
reeled  under  it,  panting  and  wild-eyed.    "  Why  ?  " 

He  did  not  answer  and  the  colour  flamed  suddenly  into 
her  face.  She  went  closer  to  him,  her  breast  heaving, 
trying  to  speak,  but  her  throat  was  parched  and  her  lips 
shaking  so  that  no  words  would  come. 

44  It  is  because  you  are  tired  of  me?  "  she  muttered  at 
last  hoarsely,  44 —  as  you  told  me  you  would  tire,  as  you 
tired  of  —  those  other  women?"  Her  voice  died  away 
with  an  accent  of  horror  in  it. 

Again  he  did  not  answer,  but  he  winced,  and  his  hands 
that  were  hanging  at  his  sides  clenched  slowly. 

Diana  flung  one  arm  across  her  face  to  shut  him  out  I 
from  her  sight.    Her  heart  was  breaking,  and  she  longed 
with  a  feeling  of  sick  misery  to  crawl  to  his  feet,  but  a 
remnant  of  pride  kept  her  back. 

He  spoke  at  length  in  the  same  level,  toneless  voice. 
"  I  will  take  you  to  the  first  desert  station  outside  of  Oran,  | 
where  you  can  join  the  train.    For  your  own  sake  I  must 


THE  SHEIK  287 

not  be  seen  with  you  in  Oran,  as  I  am  known  there.  If 
youN should  by  any  chance  be  recognised  or  your  identity 
should  leak  out,  you  can  say  that  for  reasons  of  your  own 
you  extended  your  trip,  that  your  messages  miscarried, 
anything  that  occurs  to  you.  But  it  is  not  at  all  likely  to 
happen.  There  are  many  travellers  passing  through 
Oran.  Gaston  can  do  all  business  and  make  all  arrange- 
ments for  you.  He  will  take  you  to  Marseilles,  and  if 
you  need  him  he  will  go  with  you  to  Paris,  Cherbourg,  or 
London  —  whichever  ycu  wish.  As  you  know,  you  can 
trust  him  absolutely.  When  you  do  not  need  him  any 
longer,  he  will  come  back  to  me.  I  —  I  will  not  trouble 
you  any  more.  You  need  never  be  afraid  that  I  will  come 
into  your  life  again.  You  can  forget  these  months  in  the 
desert  and  the  uncivilised  Arab  who  crossed  your  path. 
To  keep  out  of  your  way  is  the  only  amends  I  can  make." 

She  flung  up  her  head.  Quick,  suspicious  jealousy  and 
love  and  pride  contending  nearly  choked  her.  "  Why 
don't  you  speak  the  truth?"  she  cried  wildly.  "  Why 
don't  you  say  what  you  really  mean  ?  —  that  you  have 
no  further  use  for  me,  that  it  amused  you  to  take  me 
and  torture  me  to  satisfy  your  whim,  but  the  whim  is 
passed.  It  does  not  amuse  you  any  longer.  You  are 
tired  of  me  and  so  you  get  rid  of  me  with  all  precautions. 
Do  you  think  the  truth  can  hurt  me?  Nothing  that  you 
can  do  can  hurt  me  now.  You  made  me  the  vile  thing 
I  am  for  your  pleasure,  and  now  for  your  pleasure  you 
throw  me  on  one  side.  .  .  .  How  many  times  a  year  does 
Gaston  take  your  discarded  mistresses  back  to  France  ?  " 
Her  voice  broke  into  a  terrible  laugh. 

He  swung  round  swiftly  and  flung  his  arms  about  her, 
crushing  her  to  him  savagely,  forgetting  his  strength,  his 


288 


THE  SHEIK 


eyes  blazing.  "  God !  Do  you  think  it  is  easy  to  let 
you  go,  that  you  are  taunting  me  like  this  ?  Do  you  think 
I  haven't  suffered,  that  I'm  not  suffering  now?  Don't 
you  know  that  it  is  tearing  my  heart  out  by  the  roots  to 
send  you  away?  My  life  will  be  hell  without  you.  Do 
you  think  I  haven't  realised  what  an  infinitely  damned 
brute  I've  been?  I  didn't  love  you  when  I  took  you,  I 
only  wanted  you  to  satisfy  the  beast  in  me.  And  I  was 
glad  that  you  were  English  that  I  could  make  you  suffer 
as  an  Englishman  made  my  mother  suffer,  I  so  loathed  the 
whole  race.  I  have  been  mad  all  my  life,  I  think  —  up 
till  now.  I  thought  I  didn't  care  until  the  night  I  heard 
that  Ibraheim  Amair  had  got  you,  and  then  I  knew  that 
if  anything  happened  to  you  the  light  of  my  life  was  out, 
and  that  I  would  only  wait  to  kill  Ibraheim  before  I  killed 
myself." 

His  arms  were  like  a  vice  hurting  her,  but  they  felt  like 
heaven,  and  she  clung  to  him  speechless,  her  heart  throb- 
bing wildly.  He  looked  down  long  and  deeply  into  her 
eyes,  and  the  light  in  his  —  the  light  that  she  had  longed 
for  —  made  her  tremble.  His  brown  head  bent  lower  and 
lower,  and  his  lips  had  almost  touched  her  when  he  drew 
back,  and  the  love  in  his  eyes  faded  into  misery. 

"  I  mustn't  kiss  you,"  he  said  huskily,  as  he  put  her 
from  him  gently.  "  I  don't  think  I  should  have  the 
courage  to  let  you  go  if  I  did.  I  didn't  mean  to  touch 
you." 

He  turned  from  her  with  a  little  gesture  of  weariness. 

Fear  fled  back  into  her  eyes.  44 1  don't  want  to  go," 
she  whispered  faintly. 

He  paused  by  the  writing-table  and  took  up  the  revolver 
he  had  loaded  earlier,  breaking  it  absently,  spinning  the 


THE  SHEIK 


289 


magazine  between  his  finger  and  thumb,  and  replaced  it 
before  answering. 

"  You  don't  understand.  There  is  no  other  way,"  he 
said  dully. 

"If  you  really  loved  me  you  would  not  let  me  go,"  she 
cried,  with  a  miserable  sob. 

"  //  I  loved  you  ?  "  he  echoed,  with  a  hard  laugh.  "  // 
I  loved  you !  It  is  because  I  love  you  so  much  that  I  am 
able  to  do  it.  If  I  loved  you  a  little  less  I  would  let  you 
stay  and  take  your  chance." 

She  flung  out  her  hands  appealingly.  "  I  want  to  stay, 
Ahmed !  I  love  you !  "  she  panted,  desperate  —  for  she 
knew  his  obstinate  determination,  and  she  saw  her  chance 
of  happiness  slipping  away. 

He  did  not  move  or  look  at  her,  and  his  brows  drew 
together  in  the  dreaded  heavy  frown.  "  You  don't  know 
what  you  are  saying.  You  don't  know  what  it  would 
mean,"  he  replied  in  a  voice  from  which  he  had  forced  all 
expression.  M  If  you  married  me  you  would  have  to  live 
always  here  in  the  desert.  I  cannot  leave  my  people,  and 
I  am  —  too  much  of  an  Arab  to  let  you  go  alone.  It 
would  be  no  life  for  you.  You  think  you  love  me  now, 
though  God  knows  how  you  can  after  what  I  have  done  to 
you,  but  a  time  would  come  when  you  would  find  that  your 
love  for  me  did  not  compensate  for  your  life  here.  And 
marriage  with  me  is  unthinkable.  You  know  what  I  am 
and  what  I  have  been.  You  know  that  I  am  not  fit  to 
live  with,  not  fit  to  be  near  any  decent  woman.  You 
know  what  sort  of  a  damnable  life  I  have  led;  the  mem- 
ory of  it  would  always  come  between  us  —  you  would 
never  forget,  you  would  never  trust  me.  And  if  you 
could,  of  your  charity,  both  forgive  and  forget,  you  know 


290 


THE  SHEIK 


that  I  am  not  easy  to  live  with.  You  know  my  devilish 
temper  —  it  has  not  spared  you  in  the  past,  it  might  not 
spare  you  in  the  future.  Do  you  think  that  I  could  bear 
to  see  you  year  after  year  growing  to  hate  me  more? 
You  think  that  I  am  cruel  now,  but  I  am  thinking  what 
is  best  for  you  afterwards.  Some  day  you  will  think  of 
me  a  little  kindly  because  I  had  the  strength  to  let  you  go. 
You  are  so  young,  your  life  is  only  just  beginning.  You 
are  strong  enough  to  put  the  memory  of  these  last  months 
out  of  your  mind  —  to  forget  the  past  and  live  only  for 
the  future.  No  one  need  ever  know.  There  can  be  no 
fear  for  your  —  reputation.  Things  are  forgotten  in  the 
silence  of  the  desert.  Mustafa  AH  is  many  hundreds  of 
miles  away,  but  not  so  far  that  he  would  dare  to  talk.  My 
own  men  need  not  be  considered,  they  speak  or  are  silent 
as  I  wish.  There  is  only  Raoul,  and  there  is  no  question 
of  him.  He  has  not  spared  me  his  opinion.  You  must 
go  back  to  your  own  country,  to  your  own  people,  to  your 
own  life,  in  which  I  have  no  place  or  part,  and  soon  all 
this  will  seem  only  like  an  ugly  dream." 

The  sweat  was  standing  out  on  his  forehead  and  his 
hands  were  clenched  with  the  effort  he  was  making,  but 
her  head  was  buried  in  her  hands,  and  she  did  not  see  the 
torture  in  his  face,  she  only  heard  his  soft,  low  voice 
inexorably  decreeing  her  fate  and  shutting  her  out  from 
happiness  in  quiet  almost  indifferent  tones. 

She  shuddered  convulsively.  "  Ahmed !  I  can't  go !  " 
she  wailed. 

He  looked  up  sharply,  his  face  livid,  and  tore  her  hands 
from  her   face.    "  Good   God !    You   don't  mean  —  I 

haven't  —  You  aren't  "  he  gasped  hoarsely,  looking 

down  at  her  with  a  great  fear  in  his  eyes. 


THE  SHEIK  291 

t  She  guessed  what  he  meant  and  the  color  rushed  into 
Iher  face.    The  temptation  to  lie  to  him  and  let  the  conse- 
quences rest  with  the  future  was  almost  more  than  she 
could  resist.    One  little  word  and  she  would  be  in  his 

arms  .  .  .  but  afterwards  ?    It  was  the  fear  of  the 

afterwards  that  kept  her  silent.  The  colour  slowly 
drained  from  her  face  and  she  shook  her  head  mutely. 

He  let  go  her  wrists  with  a  quick  sigh  of  relief  and 
wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  face.  Then  he  laid  his 
hand  on  her  shoulder  and  pushed  her  gently  towards  the 
inner  room.  For  a  moment  she  resisted,  her  wide,  des- 
perate eyes  searching  his,  but  he  would  not  meet  her  look, 
and  his  mouth  was  set  in  the  hard  straight  line  she  knew  so 
well,  and  with  a  cry  she  flung  herself  on  his  breast,  her 
face  hidden  against  him,  her  hands  clinging  round  his 
neck.  "  Ahmed  !  Ahmed  !  You  are  killing  me.  I  can- 
not live  without  you.  I  love  you  and  I  want  you  —  only 
you.  I  am  not  afraid  of  the  loneliness  of  the  desert,  it 
is  the  loneliness  of  the  world  outside  the  shelter  of  your 
arms  that  I  am  afraid  of.  I  am  not  afraid  of  what  you 
are  or  what  you  have  been.  I  am  not  afraid  of  what- 
you  might  do  to  me.  I  never  lived  until  you  taught  me 
what  life  was,  here  in  the  desert.  I  can't  go  back  to  the 
old  life,  Ahmed.  Have  pity  on  me.  Don't  shut  me  out 
from  my  only  chance  of  happiness,  don't  send  me  away. 
I  know  you  love  me  —  I  know !  I  know !  And  because 
I  know  I  am  not  ashamed  to  beg  you  to  be  merciful.  I 
haven't  any  shame,  or  pride  left.  Ahmed!  Speak  to 
me !  I  can't  bear'your  silence.  .  .  .  Oh !  You  are  cruel, 
cruel!" 

A  spasm  crossed  his  face,  but  his  mouth  set  firmer  and 
he  disengaged  her  clinging  hands  with  relentless  fingers. 


292      '  THE  SHEIK 


"  I  have  never  been  anything  else,"  he  said  bitterly,  "  but 
I  am  willing  that  you  should  think  me  a  brute  now  rather 
than  you  should  live  to  curse  the  day  you  ever  saw  me.  I 
still  think  that  your  greater  chance  of  happiness  lies  away 
from  me  rather  than  with  me,  and  for  your  ultimate  hap- 
piness I  am  content  to  sacrifice  everything." 

He  dropped  her  hands  and  turned  abruptly,  going  back 
to  the  doorway,  looking  out  into  the  darkness.  44  It  is 
very  late.  We  must  start  early.  Go  and  lie  down,"  he 
said  gently,  but  it  was  an  order  in  spite  of  the  gentleness 
of  his  voice. 

She  shrank  back  trembling,  with  piteous,  stricken  face 
and  eyes  filled  with  a  great  despair.  She  knew  him  and 
she  knew  it  was  the  end.  Nothing  would  break  his  reso- 
lution. She  looked  at  him  with  quivering  lips  through  a 
mist  of  tears,  looked  at  him  with  a  desperate  fixedness 
that  sought  to  memorise  indelibly  his  beloved  image  in 
her  heart.  The  dear  head  so  proudly  poised  on  the  broad 
shoulders,  the  long  strong  limbs,  the  slender,  graceful 
body.  He  was  all  good  to  look  upon.  A  man  of  men. 
Monseigneur!  Monseigneur!  Mon  maitre  et  seigneur. 
No !  It  would  never  be  that  any  more.  A  rush  of  tears 
blinded  her  and  she  stepped  back  uncertainly  and  stumbled 
against  the  little  writing-table.  She  caught  at  it  behind 
her  to  steady  herself,  and  her  fingers  touched  the  revolver 
he  had  laid  down.  The  contact  of  the  cold  metal  sent  a 
chill  that  seemed  to  strike  her  heart.  She  stood  rigid, 
with  startled  eyes  fixed  on  the  motionless  figure  in  the 
doorway  —  one  hand  gripping  the  weapon  tightly 
and  the  other  clutching  the  silken  wrap  across  her 
breast.  Her  mind  raced  forward  feverishly,  there  were 
only  a  few  hours  left  before  the  morning,  before  the  bitter 


THE  SHEIK  293 

^moment  when  she  must  leave  behind  her  for  ever  the  sur- 
roundings that  had  become  so  dear,  that  had  been  her  home 
as  the  old  castle  in  England  had  never  been.    She  thought 

of  the  long  journey  northward,  the  agonised  protraction 
of  her  misery  riding  beside  him,  the  nightly  camps  when 
she  would  lie  alone  in  the  little  travelling  tent,  and  then 
the  final  parting  at  the  wayside  station,  when  she  would 
have  to  watch  him  wheel  at  the  head  of  his  men  and  ride 
out  of  her  life,  and  she  would  strain  her  eyes  through  the 
dust  and  sand  to  catch  the  last  glimpse  of  the  upright 
figure  on  the  spirited  black  horse.  It  would  be  The 
Hawk,  she  thought  suddenly.  He  had  ridden  Shaitan  to- 
day, and  he  always  used  one  or  other  of  the  two  for 
long  journeys.  It  was  The  Hawk  he  had  ridden  the  day 
she  had  made  her  bid  for  freedom  and  who  had  carried 
the  double  burden  on  the  return  journey  when  she  had 
found  her  happiness.  The  contrast  between  that  ride, 
when  she  had  lain  content  in  the  curve  of  his  strong  arm, 
and  the  ride  that  she  would  take  the  next  day  was  poign- 
ant. She  closed  her  teeth  on  her  trembling  lip,  her  fingers 
tightened  on  the  stock  of  the  revolver,  and  a  wild  light 
came  into  her  sad  eyes.  She  could  never  go  through  with 
it.  To  what  end  would  be  the  hideous  torture?  What 
was  life  without  him?  —  Nothing  and  less  than  nothing. 
She  could  never  give  herself  to  another  man.  She  was 
necessary  to  no  one.  Aubrey  had  no  real  need  of  her; 
his  selfishness  wrapped  him  around  with  a  complacency 
that  abundantly  satisfied  him.  One  day,  for  the  sake  of 
the  family  he  would  marry  —  perhaps  was  already  mar- 
ried if  he  had  been  able  to  find  a  woman  in  America  who 
would  accept  his  egoism  along  with  his  old  name  and  pos- 
sessions.   Her  life  was  her  own  to  deal  with.  Nobody 


294 


THE  SHEIK 


would  be  injured  by  its  termination.    Aubrey,  indeed, 

would  benefit  considerably.    And  he  ?    His  figure 

was  blurred  through  the  tears  that  filled  her  eyes. 

Slowly  she  lifted  the  weapon  clear  of  the  table  with 
steady  fingers  and  brought  her  hand  stealthily  from  behind 
her.  She  looked  at  it  for  a  moment  dispassionately.  She 
was  not  afraid.  She  was  conscious  only  of  an  over- 
whelming weariness,  a  longing  for  rest  that  should  still 
the  gnawing  pain  in  her  breast  and  the  throbbing  in  her 
head.  ...  A  flash  and  it  would  be  over,  and  all  her  sor- 
row would  melt  away.  .  .  .  But  would  it?  A  doubting 
fear  of  the  hereafter  rushed  over  her.  What  if  suffering 
lived  beyond  the  border-line?  But  the  fear  went  as  sud- 
denly as  it  had  come,  for  with  it  came  remembrance  that 
in  that  shadowy  world  she  would  find  one  who  would 
understand — her  own  father,  who  had  shot  himself,  mad 
with  heartbroken  despair,  when  her  mother  died  in  giving 
her  birth. 

She  lifted  the  revolver  to  her  temple  resolutely. 

There  had  been  no  sound  to  betray  what  was  passing 
behind  him,  but  the  extra  sense,  the  consciousness  of 
imminent  danger  that  was  strong  in  the  desert-bred  man, 
sprang  into  active  force  within  the  Sheik.  He  turned 
like  a  flash  and  leaped  across  the  space  that  separated 
them,  catching  her  hand  as  she  pressed  the  trigger,  and 
the  bullet  sped  harmlessly  an  inch  above  her  head.  With 
his  face  gone  suddenly  ghastly  he  wrenched  the  weapon 
from  her  and  flung  it  far  into  the  night. 

For  a  moment  they  stared  into  each  other's  eyes  in 
silence,  then,  with  a  moan,  she  slipped  from  his  grasp  and 
fell  at  his  feet  in  an  agony  of  terrible  weeping.  With  a 
low  exclamation  he  stooped  and  swept  her  up  into  his 


THE  SHEIK  295 

^-arms,  holding  her  slender,  shaking  figure  with  tender 
strength,  pressing  her  head  against  him,  his  cheek  on  her 
red-gold  curls. 

44  My  God !  child,  don't  cry  so.  I  can  bear  anything  but 
that,"  he  cried  brokenly. 

But  the  terrible  sobs  went  on,  and  fearfully  he  caught 
her  closer,  straining  her  to  him  convulsively,  raining  kisses 
on  her  shining  hair.  "Diane,  Diane/'  he  whispered 
imploringly,  falling  back  into  the  soft  French  that  seemed 
so  much  more  natural.  "Man  amour,  ma  bien-aimee. 
Ne  pleures  pas,  je  fen  prie.  Je  t'aime,  je  f adore.  Tu 
resteras  pres  de  moi,  tout  a  moi." 

She  seemed  only  half-conscious,  unable  to  check  the 
emotion  that,  unloosed,  overwhelmed  her.  She  lay  inert 
against  him,  racked  with  the  long  shuddering  sobs  that 
shook  her.  His  firm  mouth  quivered  as  he  looked  down 
at  his  work.  Gathering  her  up  to  his  heart  he  carried  her 
to  the  divan,  and  the  weight  of  her  soft  slim  body  sent 
the  blood  racing  madly  through  his  veins.  He  laid  her 
down,  and  dropped  on  his  knees  beside  her,  his  arm 
wrapped  round  her,  whispering  words  of  passionate  love. 

Gradually  the  terrible  shuddering  passed  and  the  gasp- 
ing sobs  died  away,  and  she  lay  still,  so  still  and  white 
that  he  was  afraid.  He  tried  to  rise  to  fetch  some  re- 
storative, but  at  the  first  movement  she  clung  to  him, 
pressing  closer  to  him.  "  I  don't  want  anything  but  you," 
she  murmured  almost  inaudibly. 

His  arm  tightened  round  her  and  he  turned  her  face  up 
to  his.  Her  eyes  were  closed  and  the  wet  lashes  lay  black 
against  her  pale  cheek.    His  lips  touched  them  pitifully. 

"  Diane,  will  you  never  look  at  me  again  ?  "  His  voice 
was  almost  humble. 


296 


THE  SHEIK 


Her  eyes  quivered  a  moment  and  then  opened  slowly, 
looking  up  into  his  with  a  still-lingering  fear  in  them. 
"  You  won't  send  me  away  ?  "  she  whispered  pleadingly, 
like  a  terrified  child. 

A  hard  sob  broke  from  him  and  he  kissed  her  trem- 
bling lips  fiercely.  "  Never !  "  he  said  sternly.  "  I  will 
never  let  you  go  now.  My  God !  If  you  knew  how  T 
wanted  you.  If  you  knew  what  it  cost  me  to  send  you 
away.  Pray  God  I  keep  you  happy.  You  know  the 
worst  of  me,  poor  child  —  you  will  have  a  devil  for  a 
husband." 

The  colour  stole  back  slowly  into  her  face  and  a  little 
tremulous  smile  curved  her  lips.  She  slid  her  arm  up 
and  round  his  neck,  drawing  his  head  down.  "  I  am  not 
afraid,"  she  murmured  slowly.  "  I  am  not  afraid  of  any- 
thing with  your  arms  round  me,  my  desert  lovei. 
Ahmed  1    Monseigneur !  " 


THE  END 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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M 


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